


Sky Funeral

by Bootsncatz (bootsncatz)



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Extreme angst, F/F, I cannot emphasize that enough, Major character death - Freeform, Self Harm, Suicide, Talks of Self Harm, also Nicole is a lumberjack, but EXTREME ANGST, but not really, season four speculation fic, talks of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bootsncatz/pseuds/Bootsncatz
Summary: Wynonna and Nicole try to figure out how to get Waverly home while navigating their own grief and the pitfalls along the way. As things start to feel hopeless, they find out how much they'll fray at the edges before falling completely apart.Pressing her hand to the barrier again, she felt like electricity was flowing down her arm and constricting her heart, making it beat faster in her chest.“I’m coming for ya, baby girl,” Wynonna whispered, arm vibrating with the energy of the barrier. She looked back at Nicole who just watched her with an unreadable expression. Wynonna turned back to the barrier, tears at the corners of her eyes. “We’re coming for ya.”
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 47
Kudos: 144





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Hello all,
> 
> First and foremost, please _mind the tags of this fic._
> 
> Okay, now that that's out of the way. 
> 
> All I'll say is that I've been working on this for a very long time and for a while wasn't sure if I would ever finish it. But then I decided to finish it before s4 since it is a speculative type fic, even though I am 1000% sure this would never happen because the show would never go here in a million years. Basically, what I'm saying is, enjoy my deep dark thoughts. 
> 
> Thank you to Lucky for going down this angsty path with me and encouraging me to keep writing it.
> 
> If you would like a super depressing soundtrack while you read, [here is a link](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4ZendKb4ilgT8O5AAxe8pj?si=WWaokDmiQY6ZgEtMHYKSyA).

The air always felt lighter up high. Nicole leaned back into the harness that held her up, and gazed out at the world around her. The thick leather straps dug into her thighs with an almost comforting pain, one that would numb after her typical six hours one hundred feet in the air. She kicked her foot out to make sure the spikes on her heavy work boots caught the bark of the tree. She was practically straddling the thick trunk, suspended in the air by only a harness connected to a thick rope that looped around the tree to keep her in place. In the silence high up, she could hear the loose bark falling down the trunk and disappearing into the canopy below. 

Nicole took a deep breath, the clean pine scent making her lungs expand, and for a moment she felt lighter. Something she hadn’t felt in years. These moments were fleeting. Sometimes she remembered what it was like...the happiness. Like a song stuck in your head but you only remember the melody. As much as Nicole tried to grasp it and name it...it was gone. 

Her walkie talkie crackled with static and she was taken back to reality.

_“Haught, you good up there?”_

Nicole licked her chapped lips and hit the button on her walkie. “Yeah, just getting the lay of the place.”

She remembered when she told Waverly she wanted a sky funeral, for the birds to pick her bones clean and leave her out to return to the earth. She was already halfway there, she mused, as some unknown bug nibbled at her exposed neck.

Nicole pushed up the sleeves of her flannel, threads worn and soft from years of heavy labor, and adjusted the thick rope holding her against the tree. Her heavy chainsaw hung off her waist and she pulled it up, ropy muscles of her forearms flexing as she let the chainsaw roar to life. 

With well practiced ease, she cut a small wedge into the trunk to predict which way the large top section of the tree would fall. It was something she had done a thousand times and would probably do a thousand times again, if she didn’t fall to her death first.

She completed the routine, shimmying herself over to the other side of the trunk and cutting a solid line across. The small pieces of wood flew and hit the front of her protective goggles, the smell of burning wood and oil overtaking the smell of pine for just a few moments. 

When Nicole reached the cut she had placed on the other side of the trunk, she pulled the chainsaw out of the wood. The top of the tree teetered for a moment, as if unsure whether it wanted to fall. It teetered desperately, wood creaking in a cry for mercy. Nicole took off her thick leather glove and put her palm flat on the bark. Her calloused hands could barely feel the rough, bumpy bark under her hand. She pushed so hard she felt her pulse in her palm. Or maybe it was the tree's last few gasps for breath before it toppled down to the ground below. 

The silence as it fell was always the loudest.

For a moment, Nicole was sure she could hear every sound in the forest before the crash to the ground. 

She slipped her leather glove back on and let the chainsaw hang from the harness. She took her grappling hook and threw it to a neighboring tree.

On to the next one. Always on to the next one.

***

When Nicole finally descended to the ground, every muscle and bone in her body protested. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could get away with doing this. She pulled her helmet off her head and ran her hand through her sweat soaked hair, cut to a short pageboy and nearly hiding how red it was. The small patches of grey stood out like silver against her skull. About a dozen or so other loggers milled around, pulling chains around trunks and clearing away debris.

The sound of a struggling truck could be heard in the distance and everyone stopped working, watching as the foreman’s truck drove over the makeshift path that the trunks had made on the forest floor. It parked and everyone continued to stare.

“Hey, Haught,” the foreman called for her from the open window. “You have a call. Back at camp.”

Nicole stuffed her gloves into the back pocket of her well worn jeans. “Can’t it wait?”

She hadn’t received a call in well...she would probably have to count the years on two hands now. Turned out ignoring calls for a solid year will put someone off from trying to call you. For a while it seemed, anyways.

The foreman shook his head. “They said it’s an emergency.”

Nicole sighed and held her helmet under her arm. “Fine.”

The ride back to camp felt longer this time.

Her blunt nails dragged across the rough denim of her jeans, catching every little loose thread in the fabric. 

Nicole could try and fool herself. She could go ahead and pretend she didn’t know exactly what this phone call would be. She’d been waiting for it for almost ten years now. Maybe that’s why the press of the cold plastic phone receiver against the shell of her ear stung so much. Or maybe it was because her helmet rubbed constantly against the top of her ear and irritated it. She almost didn’t need the person on the other line to speak, she had half a mind to tell them to save their breath and just give her the time and place of the memorial. 

Could she even bring herself to go?

She listened to the calming buzz of the shitty reception for a moment before forcing her underworked vocal chords to speak. “Hello?”

“Nicole Haught?” the voice came, solemn and kind. “I have some bad news.”

***

_A certain number of years ago._

_If something happened to Nicole, Waverly would die._

Wynonna had said it before, multiple times. Hell, she’d thought it too. But she had never considered the opposite. Because in her mind, there wasn’t a chance of that. There was no way that anything could ever happen to Waverly. It was impossible and there was no point in even considering an impossible situation.

But now here she was, sitting across from Haught at the Homestead kitchen table facing an impossible probability.

Waverly was gone. 

And she didn’t know what to do about it.

Wynonna’s hand shook but she was surprisingly calm. Maybe because she had already screamed and cried and yelled at the sky for taking away her baby sister. She had clawed at her chest because then at least the deep ache of her heart being ripped out would have physical scars. It wouldn’t just be the deep tears on her heart that only she could feel. She wanted to bleed, she wanted to _hurt_. The pain was too much and she wanted to feel it on the outside too. 

She had passed that part of her pain, but that didn’t bring Waverly back. Wynonna needed a plan. She needed Nicole. 

The empty whiskey bottle stood between them, and somehow Nicole had killed more of it than Wynonna (maybe someday she would acknowledge that Haught had drunk her under the table at least twice, but today would not be that day).

Her brown eyes were glassy. Unfocussed. Wynonna had seen her drunk before, plenty of times. But this was different. Nicole looked like she was on the verge of death. Which she had also seen plenty of times, Wynonna mused. But this time it was different. Maybe it was because only a few hours ago Nicole had been locked in an old bunker with Jeremy and Robin. Locked up by Valdez, who surprisingly wasn’t a threat at all.

Wynonna had been fine before she brought them back from the bunker. 

She and Nedley had spent three days looking for them, and for those three days, Wynonna had purpose. She had a reason not to sit and dwell on the fact that her little sister was gone and she had no idea how to get her back. But now the only distraction she had was an almost empty bottle.

“What are we gonna do?” Nicole slurred. She still sat in the uniform she was wearing when Valdez had taken her. It was unbuttoned dangerously low and was caked in dirt and blood. There was even a burn mark on the arm Wynonna couldn’t bring herself to ask about. 

Wynonna didn’t bother pouring the alcohol into her glass, she drank the last of it straight from the bottle, not even grimacing as the liquid slid down her throat. 

“We’re gonna get her back,” Wynonna said lightly, almost airlily, despite how her throat felt choked with sobs trying to claw their way out. 

Nicole nodded, cheeks flushed undoubtedly from the alcohol as she stood up, swaying just the slightest. 

Wynonna had to admire her then. At her strong and unwavering determination to do whatever was right, despite herself. Maybe she wasn’t as tall as Wynonna thought, it was just how she carried herself that gave off the illusion. 

“Let’s go then,” Nicole said, eyes glassy. “Let’s go get her.”

“Haught,” Wynonna said softly. “It’s midnight. We can’t go into the woods now, there’s nothing we can do. We wait until the morning-“

Wow. That felt weird. Talk about turning the tables. Wynonna shook off the feeling and looked back at Nicole. 

“Go to sleep, we'll start fresh in the morning.”

Nicole shook her head. “No. We have to go now, she’s already been up there for three days, you-...you should have gotten her first.”

Wynonna expected as much from Nicole. Self sacrificing Nicole. Stupid, stupid Nicole. 

“I needed help,” Wynonna said, tipping the whiskey bottle back once again, hoping for another little drop. She let the bottle clatter back against the wood of the table and looked seriously at Nicole. “I needed _you_.”

She watched Nicole’s throat bob, eyes watering. Nicole looked back down at the table. 

“Fine,” she whispered. Wynonna noticed she still had that hideous fucking ring on her finger, and remembered what she and Waverly had looked like when she pulled them from where they were talking on the porch. A sort of awkward happiness surrounding them that usually accompanied big moments. Moments you’d built up in your mind and imagined a million different ways but never thought about what happened afterwards. 

Wynonna pushed it away until later. 

“We sleep, and tomorrow we fight,” Wynonna said. She didn’t know what she would be fighting but it sure as hell sounded good. Nicole nodded dumbly, looking at Wynonna, but straight through her. 

“We need...research. Waverly does the best research, she can’t-...we need someone. We need Waverly.”

“For now we’ll get the second best guy in the research business, okay?” Wynonna said. “Maybe Jeremy can...locate Doc with his junk or whatever.”

Nicole just nodded again. “Okay then. Tomorrow.”

“Yes. Tomorrow,” Wynonna reiterated as she stood up from the table. “You can stay here tonight. And take a shower, you're disgusting.”

“Okay,” Nicole said, for the thousandth time. Wynonna walked up to her and put a heavy hand on her shoulder. Nicole’s eyes focused on her and Wynonna gave her a sad smile. 

“We’re going to get her back,” she said firmly. “I promise.”

“We’ll get her back,” Nicole said, putting her hand on Wynonna’s shoulder to mirror her stance. “Whatever it takes.”

Their eyes locked, a moment of solidarity passing between them that made Wynonna’s heart squeeze. She wasn’t drunk enough. 

Wynonna swallowed past the lump in her throat, nearly choking herself. 

“Whatever it takes.”

***

Wynonna tossed and turned in her bed, mind running a million miles a minute. Usually the alcohol helped, but tonight it seemed to only make it worse. 

The image of Waverly being pulled into the garden played over and over in her mind, haunting her consciousness. She had moved on to imagining how the scenario could have gone. In one it was her going into the garden, Doc still stupidly following behind. In another Wynonna battled the vines away with Peacemaker and freed Waverly before the garden could take her. 

In all scenarios, Waverly was always rescued. 

Wynonna was being bombarded with images of her own failures. Maybe because of that, it wasn’t that much different than a normal night, but usually that was what the drinking was for. But if that wasn’t working Wynonna didn’t know what to do. 

It certainly didn’t help that the Homestead was drafty as ever since that shootout on their land before Waverly was taken into the Garden. She figured bullet holes will do that to a house.

For now this whole tossing and turning thing seemed to be her fate, and if the sound of creaking springs of Waverly’s bed upstairs was any indication, Nicole was having the same problem. 

At least it wasn’t the usual reason that Wynonna was forced to listen to Waverly’s bed creaking and the scraping of the wooden legs against the floor in a steady rhythm. Though right now Wynonna would be thankful if the bed was creaking for far dirtier reasons. It would mean Waverly was home and well enough to get freaky with her girlfriend. 

The squeak of the bed springs stopped and was followed by the full thumping of Nicole walking around upstairs. The steady sound of her pacing was soothing in a weird way. 

Wynonna pulled one of the stupid decorative pillows Waverly bought in an attempt to make the place more ‘homey’ to her chest and closed her eyes, willing the sleep to come. 

***

The stairs just looked like junk. 

Just a shitty stone staircase in the middle of a shitty murder forest. 

Except those shitty stairs took her baby sister. 

Wynonna went to kick the bottom step but the barrier rippled as soon as she touched it. It felt like kicking some very firm jello, an odd boneless feeling moving up her leg. She tipped back the whiskey bottle she had brought with her and let the amber liquid fall down her throat.

She grimaced as the cheap liquor burned her throat and warmed her stomach.

The crunching of the melting snow and frozen leaves under Nicole’s boots was the only sound Wynonna could hear. Shouldn’t a magical portal to some mythical Bible land have some sort of fun sound that went with it? Like a chorus of angels or some shit?

Oh god, what if they had forced Waverly into their angel choir in there?

“Alright,” Nicole said, as she walked up besides Wynonna. “I’ve checked the perimeter, I’m not seeing any weaknesses. “

“What if she’s in a choir?” Wynonna blurted, turning to look at Nicole. 

The redhead furrowed her perfectly sculpted brows and tilted her head. “What?”

“What if she’s in there with some fruity harp and white gown and they’re making her sing hymns and shit?” Wynonna asked. “At least the girl can sing. But she hates those stupid church hymns.”

Nicole’s face was devoid of emotion, a hard feat. “I need you to be serious, Wynonna.”

“I am being serious,” Wynonna scoffed. “It’s a real question.”

“Unless it’s helping us get Waverly back, I’m ignoring it,” Nicole said, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder. “And maybe you can lay off the drinking.” 

Wynonna scoffed at the suggestion and gave Nicole a serious once over. She was in her uniform even though she was off duty, all lines crisp and begging to be fucked with. Wynonna wondered if it was a comfort blanket thing, hiding behind that badge. A shield. 

Wynonna was suddenly aware of the sword strapped to her back. Poorly, if she might add. She had managed to craft a sheath with some towels and duct tape. The whole sword thing was badass but not practical. There had to be a way to turn it back into a gun. 

Nicole looked at her phone and shook her head before slipping it back into her pocket. “No service here.”

“Imagine. No cell service in the creepy forest that abducted my sister,” Wynonna muttered. She looked up at the top of the steps, no sign of whatever secret mystical door had eaten Waverly up. What a fucking bummer.

Wynonna rolled her neck and shut her eyes tight. It didn’t feel real yet. Nothing about it felt real. Waverly was… _gone_. But she wasn’t? It wasn’t even like Wynonna could go around and shoot a bunch of Revenants to feel better. Plus that wouldn’t help anyways. She was only interested in one thing right now. Getting Waverly out. She wasn’t gone. Just...temporarily missing.

“We should check in with Jeremy,” Nicole said. She pushed her hand against the barrier. When it rippled and moved beneath her hand, she pulled back like she’d been burned. “Maybe he figured something out.”

Wynonna nodded once, taking another swig of whiskey. She couldn’t let herself fall apart yet. She had a job to do. Plus, they were going to get her back so there was no reason to fall apart. Waverly would be back here with them again. Soon.

“Wynonna,” Nicole said from the trees. Wynonna hadn’t noticed how she’d been staring. Nicole had already started walking back to their car on the edge of the woods. She looked over at her and Nicole looked back. The silence passed between them and Wynonna nodded. She took another long sip of her bottle before screwing the cap back on. 

Pressing her hand to the barrier again, she felt like electricity was flowing down her arm and constricting her heart, making it beat faster in her chest. 

“I’m coming for ya, baby girl,” Wynonna whispered, arm vibrating with the energy of the barrier. She looked back at Nicole who just watched her with an unreadable expression. Wynonna turned back to the barrier, tears at the corners of her eyes. “We’re coming for ya.”

***

That night, Wynonna could hear Nicole pacing again. Back and forth across the floor of Waverly’s bedroom. 

Jeremy was zero help. He had read through the Bible (twice) and read every single theological paper he could find on the Garden of Eden. Supposedly. Wynonna refused to believe that there wasn’t a super convenient paper written about rescuing Waverly from the garden.

She laid on her back and looked up at the ceiling. She swore she could see the dust fall from the ceiling with each step that Nicole took. The gentle creaking of the boards wouldn’t have been noticable if Wynonna could just fucking sleep.

It was like the old house itself was protesting against the absence of its brightest light.

Growling in frustration, Wynonna rolled over onto her side and held her pillow over her head. 

Even if she wanted to blame Nicole for the lack of sleep, she knew it was only part of the problem. 

Figuring it would be a while before she got to sleep anyway, Wynonna checked her phone for anything from...anyone. But nothing. As she set her phone back on the bedside table her eye caught the barest glint of the whiskey bottle on the floor. 

Licking her lips, Wynonna realized how parched she was.

If Waverly had been home, she’d go get a glass of water and be done with it. Maybe. Most likely she’d just fall back asleep and wake up to the smell of Waverly making something delicious in the kitchen. But Waverly wasn’t there to give her that worried, disapproving look when Wynonna dragged her hungover ass into the kitchen. 

Wynonna let herself feel shame for a moment as she reached for the half drunk whiskey bottle, unscrewing the top and letting the alcohol flow over her tongue.

***

Jeremy was an easy target. 

Wynonna had always known that and she knew it was part of the reason she couldn’t help but take her anger out on him. It was no different than when she found out he knew about Dolls. Back when Wynonna couldn’t imagine a more devastating loss.

But the way he just stood there, head bent and unkempt stubble all along his boyish face in the shell of the BBD office, Wynonna couldn’t help herself.

“What do you mean you have nothing?” Wynonna’s angry growl was broken up by a waver in her voice. The grief always creeping in, constantly creeping in. It was always just on the edges, clouding her vision and judgements. “We can’t just have _nothing_ , Chetri, this is Waverly we’re talking about here.”

Dark eyes fell to the floor, tears sparkling behind them, and it just fueled her vicious tongue. It was so much easier to hurt and feel anger than to feel the hopeless ache burrowing into her heart. 

“I thought you’d actually _try_ since this is Waverly, your supposed best friend, and Doc who you have a pathetic crush on. But I guess just like everything else I have to do this on my own-”

“Wynonna, _stop_.”

Blue eyes dragged themselves away from Jeremy and looked beside her. Nicole looked tall and imposing again. Dammit. 

“We’re all upset,” Nicole said, voice surprisingly firm for the mess Wynonna knew her heart was. “Jeremy is trying to help.” Wynonna scoffed and Nicole’s look hardened. “You’re not in this alone. We’re all missing her.”

Nicole’s voice finally cracked on the last word and Wynonna looked away. The regret was almost instant, turning Wynonna’s stomach and making her tongue feel bitter. She swallowed thickly, forcing down the apology she knew was imminent, but her pride made a convenient wall to hide the grief.

“Yeah, whatever,” Wynonna turned, boots squeaking on the dirty linoleum floor as she headed out of the offices. “I’m going to be actually trying to find my baby sister if anyone wants to take their thumb out of their ass and join me.”

Wynonna wiped stubborn tears from her cheeks as she strode towards the door of the station. They clouded her vision, but she’d made the same walk in various states of drunk and hungover, so this shouldn’t be a problem. 

She was close, so close, to the exit when she felt a strong hand grab her by the elbow and push her into Nicole’s office. The door slammed behind them and Wynonna spun around to leave again but hit Nicole full face in the chest instead. 

“Leave me be, Deputy Dipshit,” Wynonna said. She tried to push Nicole out of the way, but she wouldn’t budge. The anger reared its angry head and Wynonna started striking at her, but each blow was stopped by agile hands. Her throat and lungs burned with all the tears she was holding back and suddenly it felt like her muscles gave out, body going slack against Nicole’s. 

She sobbed into that perfectly pressed shirt that smelled like the dry cleaners, that weird chemical scent that wasn’t bad but wasn’t good, sharp against the back of her throat as she sobbed. Nicole dragged her limp body over to the couch and they sat down on it. She vaguely registered that it was the couch that Nicole and Waverly had made out on many times and more if Waverly’s mooney eyes whenever she shared the story of their first (and subsequent) kiss told Wynonna anything. Wynonna’s body stiffened as she felt Nicole’s strong arms wrap around her and pull her closer.

Wynonna hated feeling confined, hated feeling stuck. Her fight or flight instinct triggered and she tried to pull away but Nicole’s arms just held her tighter.

“It’s okay,” Nicole said softly, tears apparent in her own voice. “It’s okay. We’re going to find her. We’re going to get her back. Okay?”

“I feel so useless,” Wynonna admitted between her sobs.

“Hey, stop that. What would Waverly do? She’d say not to give up. To keep fighting. That we’ll be fine as long as we have each other,” Nicole said. Wynonna knew it was meant for both of them. Nicole needed those words just as much as she did. She remembered Nicole’s words not long ago when Wynonna thought she’d never be that sad again. 

‘You don’t have a monopoly on the grief we all feel.’

A painful sob shook Wynonna’s body and she wrapped her arms around Nicole. It was hard to get comfort, she hated it. It made her feel weak and vulnerable and all the things that she had been raised to hide. But she could give it. She could certainly give it. So she squeezed Nicole tight and together they cried out of grief. Out of hopelessness. And all the stupid selfish emotions that come with it.

***

Life had really started playing out like some kind of fucked up Groundhog’s Day situation. At least it felt that way until Wynonna looked at the calendar to see that another week had passed. Then she remembered that it was just her going about the same routine day after day after day that made all of them start blending together. 

Wake up. Get coffee (whiskey). Get dressed. Steal Haught’s coffee. Go to the stairs. Follow any possible lead to something weird and demon-y hoping it would turn up a clue to Waverly.

But, spoiler alert, it never did. It seemed like every possible demon had skedaddled out of Purgatory and any surrounding areas as soon as the curse was broken. 

Then back home. Drink. Shower the day off. More drinking. Go to sleep. Probably some more drinking in the night. Then repeat.

Oh and somewhere in there, accidentally kicking the food bowl that now lived on the kitchen floor, implying that Nicole had brought her cat over at some point, was also part of the routine. Wynonna insisted it was only implied because she’d yet to see the fluffy monster yet. 

They had gone back to the stairs so many times that a well worn path had begun to make itself known from the road. But it ended right at the barrier blocking them from the stairs. The one keeping her just feet away from her baby sister.

With each passing day, it felt like Nicole’s pacing upstairs went longer and longer into the night. Wynonna usually wouldn’t care, but being awake all through the night with Nicole’s pacing meant that Wynonna was up drinking until she could fall asleep. And no real job meant no income, which meant her habit was getting a little too expensive for her pockets.

Usually she could ignore it but Wynonna was totally out of whiskey today and Nicole’s stomping around was really starting to get on her way-too-sober nerves. Throwing the covers off of herself, Wynonna swung her legs out of the bed and started up the stairs. She threw open Waverly’s door and saw a shocked Nicole standing in her pajamas. Her hair was limp against her face, dark circles under her eyes and fingers nervously picking at the skin on her thumb.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Nicole breathed.

“Yeah, no shit,” Wynonna grumbled. “Neither could I with the world’s most depressing parade happening right above my head.”

“Sorry,” Nicole said, sitting back heavily on the bed.

“Don’t apologize,” Wynonna said, suddenly not sure what her idea was now that she was here in the room. Sedate Nicole? All Wynonna knew was that her whiskey buzz was wearing off and she needed to sleep before she was sober again. With a sigh of resignation, Wynonna walked towards the bed and flopped down in it. Nicole looked behind her at Wynonna in the bed, the dim light casting harsh shadows over her face.

“What are you doing?” Nicole asked.

“We’re going to sleep,” Wynonna said, turning on her side to try to get comfortable. “You look like shit. You need sleep.”

“Geez, thanks,” Nicole said. It sounded like there was gravel in her vocal chords.

Wynonna just patted the bed beside her. “Come on. Either sleep or get out so I can.”

Wynonna closed her eyes, hoping she didn’t seem too invested in this whole situation. She came up here to stop the pacing but she had to admit, it sounded nice to just share a bed with someone else. Not in any kind of sexual way, but she’d gotten used to how touchy feely Waverly was and she realized how much she missed it. Just the feeling of someone else’s skin against your own, of knowing they cared.

Nicole just sat for a moment before cautiously lying down on the bed. Wynonna blinked her eyes open and saw Nicole lying on her stomach, gazing at Wynonna in the dark. If she wasn’t tired from grief she might make a quippy comment but she just looked back at Nicole, waiting for her to say something.

“I’m worried, Wynonna,” Nicole’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it broke Wynonna’s heart all the same. 

It was no secret that Wynonna was shit at this sharing emotions thing, but something about living every single day holding everything back had gotten old. Plus, Haught had been right there with her the whole time. She saw how her clothes basically hung off of her these days, the way her skin paled and fingers had gotten twitchy. Wynonna wasn’t even sure if she made it to the Sheriff’s Office anymore for anything other than doing more research on leads to get to Waverly. 

It was probably a good thing that all the demons had seemed to leave the Ghost River Triangle, and now all Purgatory had to deal with were drunk kids riding tractors around in fields or the occasional rabid racoon. 

The point was, she knew that of anyone, Haught would never judge her or use her vulnerability against her. Red was the one that had always been there trying to pull little bits of humanity out of her fraying edges since she started making herself an annoyingly persistent feature in their lives. She’d managed to succeed a couple of times, that sneaky bitch, but she never used it against her.

“So am I,” Wynonna admitted. Nicole reached out and rested her hand over Wynonna’s, squeezing her fingers for a moment. 

Wynonna didn’t realize that a simple touch could break her until Nicole’s hand on her own made her chest seize. It felt like all the emotions she’d managed to push down suddenly floated to the surface. Her lungs constricted and she swallowed thickly, hoping to keep the tears at bay.

“I miss her,” Nicole’s voice sounded small and broken like the cry of a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. It was pathetic and sad and Wynonna realized something.

“I...haven’t seen you cry, Nicole,” Wynonna frowned. “Not once.”

Nicole drew in a shaky breath. “I’m worried that if I start, I’ll never stop.”

The confession swirled in the air between them and Wynonna nodded. “I get it. Sometimes I feel like the tears will never stop. Then other days it’s like even a swift kick to the box won’t make me cry.”

Nicole shook her head, pressing her face a little more into the pillow. “I can’t let myself- Not yet.”

Wynonna just squeezed Nicole’s hand back and let her eyes close. “Just get some sleep, Haught. I have a good feeling about tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” Nicole said, in the same small broken voice. Wynonna listened to Nicole’s breath get heavier, but not like she was falling asleep, just like she was trying to control it. Strong, even breaths, and Wynonna remembered how she used to go for runs in the morning before Waverly-

Wynonna turned her back to Nicole so she could finally let the dam break, and a single tear rolled down her cheek and onto Waverly’s pillow.

***

Grief is funny because no one exactly knows how it feels. 

Sure they have that handy chart of the stages of grief, but you never go through them one by one like a neat little advent calendar of pain where the prize at the end was total peace with your situation. At least that hadn’t been Wynonna’s experience.

Each day felt like a new emotion until it all just felt like mush in her chest. A sundae of emotions, if you will. A scoop of anger and a scoop of denial, one stacked on top of the other, melting at the bottom of your glass to form an entirely new flavor, a warm ribbon of bargaining, like fudge, topping the whole thing together with a sprinkle of depression and complete with a cherry that tasted a lot like hopelessness at the top. 

It always started out looking pretty and together, but by the time you took the first bite it began blending into one sugary, flavorless mess.

And Wynonna was exhausted.

Most of the time she was stuck between the anger and depression side of things. Her mood would tank when they hit another dead end, another wall that was unbreachable. It felt like her boots were filled with lead and she’d been running for days at a time, her entire body exhausted. It was so heavy that she felt like if she lay down and let herself rest, she’d never get back up. The vines would crawl over her and tie her to the ground until her body rotted to dust. In a way, that seemed preferable. No more pain. No more fighting. But Waverly. She needed Waverly.

Her heart ached like her stomach did when she reached the bottom of another whiskey bottle. 

Being without Waverly was like being without hope. Without air. 

Wynonna felt like she was underwater, constantly reaching up towards the light, but every time she got close she’d be tugged down into the depths again. Her lungs burned and eyes blurred and it would be so easy to give up. So much easier to stop pushing her way towards the top. 

Waverly. Waverly was at the top waiting for her, she told herself. All she had to do was keep fighting a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer. Just that last bit. Then she could rest. Then she could sleep.

***

Nicole stood tall, like a tree against a storm. 

Wynonna had always given her a hard time about having a stick up her ass (and she did) but she knew that stick was going straight from her ass into the ground, making her a strong and steady presence in Waverly’s life. Hell, in her life too. They’d grown up and existed without any real stability, and finally it found them in the form of a tall redhead.

But even trees break eventually if the storm is bad enough. 

Wynonna understood why Waverly had always reached for her, always depended on her to be the rock that she needed.

Now, lying in bed with Nicole’s lanky body firm behind her own, arm holding Wynonna close, she understood.

There was a certain strength that came from her that Wynonna couldn’t quite explain. But with each passing day Nicole seemed more and more drained. Wynonna still hadn’t seen her cry, and it was becoming a little worrisome at this point. She wondered at what point the tree would break and how bad it would be when it did. 

They’d been sleeping in the same bed every night now. It kept Nicole from pacing and Wynonna begrudgingly got more sleep with Nicole there. In fact, they were hardly apart these days. If Wynonna hadn’t been so mournful over the loss of Waverly she might have mourned her independence too.

For now, she would let herself find comfort in Nicole’s arms. She was the only one she had left, after all. All they had was each other. It was fucked up, but it was true. Just the two of them in this fucked up little family. And for now it had to be enough.

***

Wynonna had touched death many times in her life. She was practically born in grief, rising from the ocean of tears that had been cried when her Mama realized she was stuck in a nowhere town with an abusive man. She had known grief from her first breath. Her Daddy made sure she didn’t forget the sacrifices it took for them to be there on the family land. The sharp musty taste that hit the back of her tongue as she stood on the porch and looked out at their land, before rain was the blood her family had spilled on this land, she was sure of it. 

Death crept along their land, low and insidious like a fog you couldn’t see until it overtook you. Wynonna felt it always, just lingering in her peripheral vision. The night she killed her Daddy, small hand holding a gun too heavy for it, death was all around her. It smelled copper, thick, fresh spilled blood in the dirt, and sounded like her little sister’s screams. 

If Wynonna was born in grief, Waverly was conceived in it. 

Conceived and raised in a grief that wasn’t her own, but hardened her bones just the same. 

Mama left her baby with Ward, unprotected and vulnerable. She left her to be the scapegoat to decades of pain still boiling deep inside their Daddy.

They say that trauma is genetic. Wouldn’t that just be convenient as hell? Another thing to blame her bad choices on that wasn’t herself. But she believed it. She saw Ward’s pain in her own eyes the same way she saw Edwin’s in his. The true Earp curse.

Wynonna had always thought Waverly would be free of the brunt of it.

“Miss Earp?”

Wynonna remembered the phone pressed against her ear and blinked, shaking her head a little as she came back to reality. 

“What?”

“Miss Earp, this is Graymore and Sons mortuary, we’re contacting you about plans for your recently departed loved one,” the overly chipper voice on the phone said. 

It felt like a sledgehammer to the chest. 

Her eyes fluttered up and saw Nicole looking at her curiously, one hand on the barrier around the stairs. There was still snow on the ground but it had begun to melt, turning to dirty slush beneath their boots. The air was still sharp with cold, stabbing her lungs and making her breath come out in puffs.

She remembered Nicole and Waverly at the kitchen table, talking about coffins with some dude who looked like a corpse himself. Was that really only a few months ago? It felt like years. 

Wynonna pulled her eyes away from Nicole, turning her back to her so she hopefully wouldn’t hear her.

“I don’t have any recently departed loved ones,” Wynonna said curtly, jaw so tight it felt like her teeth might shatter from the force. “And don’t call me ‘miss’, asshole.”

She hung up the phone with such force that the little button on the cheap, ancient phone pushed back into its plastic frame and didn’t pop back out. Wynonna shut the flip phone and shoved it into her pocket. 

How was it that the one time she got cell service it was for that shitty call?

She stared into the forest, hands clenched into fists in the pockets of her leather jacket. 

How long had it been since Waverly was taken into the garden? Two months? Two months with no leads, not even a morsel of good news. She took a deep breath in, the cold sticking like needles in her lungs as she slowly blew out through her mouth. No crying. No crying. No-

There was a hand on her back and she rolled her shoulders back, shrugging it off as she blinked away tears. Nicole just put her hand back between Wynonna’s shoulder blades, rubbing soothing circles. Persistent. Consistent. 

Wynonna moved to shake her loose again but a truth she’d been avoiding dislodged between her ribs and the floodgates opened. She crossed her arms over her chest and hung her head as the first sob shook her shoulders. There was no way to tell if she moved first or Nicole did, but soon her face was pressed to her shoulder. At least it didn’t smell like the stupid dry cleaners anymore. Probably because she hadn’t worn her uniform in ages. Now she just smelled like detergent and...a frappuccino?

Hands still buried in her pockets, Wynonna let her upper body lean into Nicole as the tears ran down her face. The warmth of the tears stung the cold skin of her cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the growing pain in her chest. 

“What if there’s nothing else we can do?” Wynonna said between her sobs. “What if-”

“Don’t talk like that, Wynonna,” Nicole said, arms tightening around her. “We have to keep trying. We can’t give up.”

“I can’t do this without her,” Wynonna shook her head and pressed her face harder into her shoulder. “She’s supposed to be here Nicole. She’s supposed to be _here_ with _us_.”

“We’ll get her back, I promise-”

Wynonna pushed Nicole away, wiping her sleeve across her eyes to get the tears. The pain had gotten so deep in her chest, mixing with her self doubt until it became anger.

“Don’t fucking say that,” Wynonna said. “We don’t know. We haven’t found _shit_ and my baby sister is still-, wherever she is. She could be stone by now like Kevin said. We don’t know. You can’t promise me _shit_.”

“Wynonna, we’re getting her back,” Nicole said firmly. “There is no other option.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Wynonna reached for the flask inside her jacket as she sniffled. She could physically feel her walls slide into place, stubbornness giving her a mask to hide behind. The whiskey burned as it tipped back into her throat, but it was welcome. It would numb the pain and with a few more shots the taste would go away too. “You can’t trick me, Haught Shot, not like you tricked Waverly with the promises you couldn’t keep.”

Nicole’s face crumbled and it fed the angry fire in Wynonna’s stomach. Her lip curled in a snarl of a smile and she walked towards Nicole like a predator cornering her prey. She was hurting, and she wanted to make someone else hurt too. It was never fair that she seemed to just face pain after pain after pain when people like Nicole got to have some good in life. 

Wynonna used to have good too. Waverly. But now she was gone.

“I never broke a promise to Waverly,” Nicole said, a noble confidence furrowing her brow. 

“Really?” Wynonna scoffed. “You didn’t promise to keep her safe? That you’d shoot anyone for her?”

Nicole’s eyes hardened and Wynonna thrilled at the idea of a fight. 

“You take that back, Wynonna,” Nicole said, voice calm and dangerous. “You know damn well that it’s not my fault that Waverly is gone right now. _You_ drugged me so I couldn’t be there for her. _You_ let whatever that was take her.”

“Yeah, well if you’d just given her a damn answer when she proposed maybe she wouldn’t have felt the need to run off like that,” Wynonna said.

Nicole’s entire face got red and Wynonna almost made a tomato quip before something hard and sharp hit her in the jaw. She fell backwards into the snow, white lights popping in front of her eyes as she groaned in pain. Nicole was on top of her in a flash and Wynonna moved her arms to cover her face but she yanked them down.

“Let’s not forget whose fault it was that I wasn’t there when Waverly-” Wynonna watched Nicole’s throat flex like she was swallowing her words. “You _drugged_ me, Wynonna. That is _not_ okay. Maybe if I was there Waverly would still be here!” 

Wynonna bucked her hips off the ground to throw Nicole off balance and she flipped their positions, pinning Nicole to the ground. She pulled her arm back, elbow to the sky and ready to punch. 

“You never deserved my sister,” Wynonna seethed. 

Nicole punched her in the gut and she groaned. Nicole took the opportunity to flip Wynonna off of her and flip her onto her belly, pulling both of her hands behind her back. Wynonna growled and tried to get Nicole off of her with a sharp jolt of her shoulder but Nicole just pressed her harder into the ground as she leaned down to talk to her.

“You’re right, I never deserved Waverly,” she said through gritted teeth. “But you sure as hell didn’t either.”

Wynonna stopped struggling, Nicole’s words sharp enough to deflate whatever fight she had left in her. Nicole pushed herself up off of the ground and Wynonna let her arms flop to the sides as the blood rushed back to them. She panted, the sharp tang of blood and dirt on her tongue. The only thing that Wynonna could hear was the rapid beating of her own heart and the crunch of Nicole’s boots as she walked away.

Swallowing the blood in her mouth, Wynonna turned onto her back and closed her eyes. She tried to feel every new bruise and scrape on her. Definitely got a punch to the jaw, couple of bruises on her arms. For now it was enough to distract her from the chasm in her chest.

She took a deep breath of the cold forest air and revelled in the soft burn of her lungs inflating fully. She wished she could just stay here. She felt heaviness in her limbs and the weight in her chest felt unbearable. This is where she would stay. Near Waverly. So maybe she could waste away close to her.

Nicole was right, she didn’t deserve her. Hell, she didn’t think anyone did. 

The crunching of Nicole’s boots came back, and Wynonna groaned.

“Come back to K.O. me?” Wynonna said, not bothering to open her eyes. Her eyelashes were still wet from her tears.

She felt Nicole tap her hip. “Come on, Earp.” Wynonna slowly opened her eyes, vision coming back into focus as some errant tears slid down and over her ears. Nicole was standing over her, hand extended to help her up. 

Wynonna just blinked at her. “You came back.”

“Always,” Nicole leaned down and took Wynonna’s hand herself and she let herself be pulled off of the ground.

Wynonna took her time wiping imaginary dirt off her ass and pants as they stood in awkward silence. A better person would apologize. Wynonna hated apologizing.

“Haught-”

“Hey, let’s get Chinese on the way home,” Nicole interrupted, and Wynonna breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Wynonna said, stuffing her hands in her pockets as they headed back towards the car. “I feel like a frappuccino too.”

***

Wynonna frowned. The walls shook with heavy bass and she could hear the low sounds of a melody playing from far away. She silently wondered if it was just another fucked up kind of hangover she’d just discovered. 

With a groan she put the pillow over her head, but the shaking walls were becoming too much. 

_Loosen up my buttons babe-_

“What the fuck, Haught,” she mumbled into the pillow. The sound became too much and she reluctantly swung her legs out of the bed. She hissed as the cold hit her feet and she cursed Nicole under her breath again. 

Not bothering to grab anything to cover up, Wynonna padded out of Waverly’s room and down the stairs. She expected Nicole to be doing something butch like punching a slab of meat but she was not expecting… _that_.

Nicole had the radio turned up all the way with that horrid song pumping through the speakers, dressed in her workout pants and a sports bra, body gyrating to the beat. Wynonna frowned and leaned against the doorway, still unseen as Nicole did a full body roll to the beat, mouthing the words to the song. 

Nicole wasn’t a _good_ dancer. She was all limbs and awkwardness. But Wynonna could see how the lanky redhead moving to the beat of the song might catch some poor unsuspecting gay at the club. 

Wynonna wiped away the leftover crust on her eyes that came with crying all night, as her broken heart beat to the tempo of the song. She marveled at grief in all its ridiculous forms. The song ended but immediately started over and Nicole never stopped dancing. 

Wynonna ran a hand through her hair, grimacing as her fingers caught on tangles. She turned and walked back up the stairs, throwing herself on the bed and letting the music lull her back into a restless sleep. 

***

“‘Ey, wa’ch it,” Wynonna slurred, stumbling to the side when someone walked a little too close to her in the hallway at Shorty’s that led to the bathroom. Her beer sloshed over her hand and she sent a menacing glare in the direction that the blurry man went. Or was it two? Twins? Wynonna lost interest and turned back to the messy bulletin board in front of her.

“Missing: Waverly Earp”

Below the hideous block letters was a picture of Waverly. It was cropped close to her face, eyes crinkled as she smiled towards the camera. If Wynonna remembered, it was the picture where Haught was sitting on the pool table and holding Waverly from behind. 

“Missing since-”

Wynonna ripped her eyes away from the board and back down at her half drunk beer. She didn’t need a poster telling her how long it’d been. Too fucking long. That’s how long it’d been. Looking back up at the board, she remembered when Haught had it absolutely covered in these fucking posters. Now there were just a couple stray ones here and there and the ones remaining were curled at the edges. 

Waverly was gone. Was it too long? Were they too late? Had she spent too many nights finding solace at the bottom of a whiskey bottle to save her sister?

“Wynonna.” 

She just grunted, taking another long sip of her beer.

“Wynonna, let’s go home.”

Nicole’s hand on her wrist was soft. Comforting. Wynonna ripped her hand away from Nicole and tipped her beer back again. 

“Leave me alone, Haught,” Wynonna slurred. “I’m not in the mood.”

“We have more whiskey at home. And it’s free,” Nicole said, reaching for Wynonna’s arm again. “Come on. I’ll get drunk with you.”

Music to her fucking ears. Free whiskey and company.

“Fine,” she said, finishing her beer and carelessly letting the glass fall to the floor. Her vision was fuzzy, but she was sure that Nicole picked it up and set it on the bar as they walked out. Not much concerned her at the moment except for getting home to more alcohol. 

Today, much like all the other days, sucked. 

No lead on Waverly, no new information on this supposed Garden and how to get into it, and no demons. Surprise surprise. In the back of Wynonna’s truck was Peacemaker, a useless sword she thought would be used to save Waverly. It currently seemed more like a hunk of junk than anything.

The wind whistled through the car as they drove, the bullet holes on the side of the beat up truck certainly not doing anyone any favors. Wynonna considered the idea that she’d have to get a new car soon, but mostly she was lamenting letting Nicole take her away from the bar. She wanted to feel something. _Anything_ good, and being tucked away in their empty house didn’t spell fun for her. But she was too drunk to do anything about it now.

She was so drunk she hardly remembered getting out of the car and into the Homestead, where she promptly collapsed on the couch. Within a few minutes, a cup of water, bottle of aspirin and bottle of whiskey were on the table in front of her. 

Wynonna grunted in appreciation and immediately reached for the whiskey. Nicole slapped her hand away and handed her the water instead.

“Just drink a little bit of this first while I catch up.” Nicole, ever the responsible one, dropped two aspirin into her palm and threw them into her mouth as she took her first long swig of whiskey. Wynonna watched, eyebrows raised, as Nicole tipped the bottle back and took three long gulps. 

She made some kind of ghastly sound as she dropped the bottle back on the table, a little bit of whiskey dripping down the corner of her mouth. 

“Wow, Haught Trot, ‘m impressed,” Wynonna said, taking a small swig of water before reaching for the whiskey.

“Don’t forget I can drink you under the table.” Nicole wiped her sleeve over her mouth and got up to start the fireplace. 

“Fake news,” Wynonna muttered as she took a sip, staring at Nicole as she bent down to get the fire started. Realizing she was starting at Nicole’s ass, Wynonna quickly looked away and took another sip of whiskey.

“Gimme that,” Nicole took the bottle from her and sat back down on the couch, thigh brushing Wynonna’s as she did. 

Wynonna let her head roll back against the couch and she stared up at the ceiling. She felt numb all over, but it was barely covering up the pain she felt just below the surface. It was always there like a constant buzzing in her ear or a scratch she couldn’t reach, just waiting to hit her full force when she least expected it.

It’s why she needed to feel something else. Something good to cover up the numbness. An extra layer of depression against the pain. 

“This whiskey is shit,” Nicole said, as she reached for the bottle again. 

“Then more for me.” Wynonna grabbed for the bottle again but Nicole pushed her away and drank from the bottle. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna drink it.” Nicole looked down at the bottle for a moment, eyes distant. Wynonna blinked, trying to figure out if she was swaying or the room was. Nicole chuckled, eyes still on the bottle. “On one of our first dates Waverly accidentally got drunk. And it was the cutest thing ever.”

“Oh god, she’s an embarrassment to the Earp name,” Wynonna muttered fondly.

“She was nervous and you know how she gets rambly when she’s nervous. Later she told me she was trying to not be so rambly so she just kept drinking wine before we ate and,” Nicole laughed, “God she was toasted. We were supposed to do dinner and a movie but during the movie she passed out from all the wine.”

“Light weight,” Wynonna said. 

“When she woke up she was so worried I’d heard her snore.”

“Did you?”

“Oh, of course,” Nicole said. “But I told her I never heard a single snore from her.”

“Good lie. Even though she sounds like a chainsaw when she sleeps,” Wynonna snorted. “Angel my ass.”

“Remember when we got drunk in the Sheriff Station?” Nicole snorted, head rolling to the side so that their faces were close. “Back when I was still crushing on Waverly.”

Wynonna rolled her eyes. “You were both absolutely disgusting.”

“You didn’t even know!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need to have seen it to know you two were disgusting,” Wynonna said.

Nicole chuckled, those stupid dimples Wynonna knew made girls swoon all over her popping as she looked down at her hands. Her face sobered for a moment but there was still a certain sweet fondness in her voice. “I miss her.”

Wynonna clumsily put her hand over Nicole’s. The conversation had sobered her up a little bit, but her limbs still felt heavy. “I do too.”

“Do you think we’re gonna-”

“Nicole,” Wynonna interrupted quickly. “We’re going to find her. Okay? Someday. Even if it’s fifty years from now. I’m too drunk to consider any other option.”

Nicole nodded, throat flexing as she stared down at their joined hands on her lap. Wynonna could see the sadness creeping in on them and knew she had to chase it away. To distract. Anything.

She snorted, remembering the first time they drank together. “You know, that night in the Sheriff’s Station, I totally thought you were going to try and hook up with me.”

Nicole’s cheeks reddened, eyes widening as she looked over at Wynonna in shock. “What! Why?”

“Because why _not_ , you could only be so lucky. Plus, you called my ass top shelf and yanked the back of my pants like you were trying to get me into your lap,” Wynonna stated like it was obvious.

“I- I was drunk!” Nicole stuttered.

Wynonna chuckled and took another swig from the bottle before setting it on the coffee table. “You were still flirting,” Wynonna shrugged with a smirk. “Plus, I was kinda flirting back.”

Nicole looked shocked for a moment as her eyes darted over Wynonna’s face. The silence was killing her so Wynonna tried to play it off. “I mean, you know I’m not picky.”

“I...knew I was flirting,” Nicole admitted in one long quiet breath.

Wynonna rested her head back against the couch and looked at Nicole, their faces still close. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed in the silence but it felt like an eternity. All she could see were Haught’s stupid fucking sad eyes and she felt the deep pain in her chest coming back. She imagined Waverly staring into those goddamn puppy eyes.

God they really loved each other.

Wynonna had always been a little jealous. Not specifically because it was Haught, it had nothing to do with her. It was the love that surrounded them. Palpable and annoying as fuck because as much as she never admitted it, she wanted that too. Doc was never going to give her that and Dolls-, well, that was the closest she’d ever felt to that. 

Nicole was just so...Nicole. 

Wynonna licked her lips and was a little surprised to watch Nicole’s eyes follow the movement. Not as surprised as she should have been though. Wynonna knew the next three seconds could put their world on a tilt, but with Waverly being gone maybe this would be the tilt that set things right again.

She wove her fingers into the red hair at the back of Nicole’s head, hearing a small gasp from her before Wynonna crashed their lips together. Wynonna’s heart hammered in her chest, the seconds ticking by like minutes until she felt Nicole’s hands fist the front of her jacket. She let out a sigh of relief and Nicole pushed her back against the couch, crawling over her.

Wynonna groaned as Nicole’s leg slid between hers, their bodies coming together a little roughly. Nicole’s shirt was on the floor in seconds. She pushed at Nicole’s chest until she sat up, their lips never disconnecting as Wynonna pulled her arms out of her own shirt. 

They separated for a moment as Wynonna tugged the shirt over her head. She felt Nicole’s hands along her arms. The firelight flickered around them and they both took a deep breath, eyes searching for something, but Wynonna wasn’t sure what. 

The rough earnestness in the air around them seemed to fade away as they looked at each other. Nicole lifted a shaky hand to cup Wynonna’s cheek and she leaned into it. Alcohol and arousal heated her blood and _goddammit_ why was Nicole so good at kissing? Nicole’s other hand came up and brushed away some hair that had fallen over Wynonna’s face and they leaned in closer. 

“Is this okay?” Nicole breathed.

Wynonna didn’t know if she meant physically or morally, but she just nodded and leaned in the rest of the way until their lips met again. It only took a few moments for the kiss to grow heated again, a certain desperation pushing them together.

Wynonna straddled Nicole’s thighs, hands fumbling with her belt with one hand as the other pushed her back onto the couch. 

They kissed like the house was on fire, and maybe it was. Wynonna could feel the danger lurking just on the outside of their bubble and she was sure if they stopped they’d be consumed. 

Suddenly Nicole slowed their kissing, hands smoothing over Wynonna’s torso gently. Wynonna shivered at how her hands ghosted over her curves, her brow furrowing at the unexpected tenderness of how Nicole pulled her lip between her own. Before she knew what was happening, Nicole flipped them so that Wynonna was on her back again. 

Nicole’s mouth became soft as they kissed and Wynonna tightened her legs around her in annoyance for a moment. But Nicole’s lips just behind her ear made her body ache in an unexpected way. 

Wynonna’s instinct was to dig her nails into Nicole’s back and hope she left with bruises, that little edge of pain to dull the sadness. But Nicole’s gentle hands soothed away the ache in a different way. She could feel Nicole’s patience and her hurt as she kissed down Wynonna’s body. Nicole’s teeth gently scraped across Wynonna’s hipbone and she tangled her fingers in red locks. 

Nicole’s body was warm and soft against her own, but strong and safe. She was an anchor in the storm and Wynonna just didn’t want to feel anymore. And if she was going to feel, she wanted it to be good. Maybe if she sought out pleasure she would get rid of the pain that lurked just under the surface of her skin like a disease. 

Nicole’s hands were sure in a way that Wynonna didn’t know she needed. There was no hesitation, no fumbling, just a confidence that made Wynonna feel safe. Like she could fall apart like a tissue in water and Nicole would be there to catch her. 

Wynonna had fucked to forget the pain before (hello, Jonas) but this felt like each second of pleasure was followed by a sadness that wasn’t unwelcome. 

She gasped when she came, throat dry, and hands grasping for any part of Nicole she could reach. Anything to make her feel close to her. She felt Nicole’s mouth on her jaw, cheeks, lips. Wynonna didn’t realize she was crying until she kissed Nicole and tasted the salt of her tears on her lips. So she kissed her harder, determined to take all that sadness back inside of her, and maybe she’d get some of Nicole’s too. 

***

The sharp ring of the phone drilled against the side of Wynonna’s skull and she groaned, pulling the pillow tighter over her head until it stopped. She let out a sigh of relief before it started ringing again.

When she felt a warm body shifting besides her, the memories of the night before seemed to come flooding back. 

God. That was something to unpack.

Right after this blinding hangover went away. 

She felt Nicole’s body cross over her own, the unmistakable feeling of her bare breasts sliding along Wynonna’s back as she reached for her phone. 

“‘Ello?” Nicole’s voice was low and rough with sleep.

“Hello, this is Greyson and Sons-”

“Fuck off.”

Wynonna heard the phone snap shut and Nicole shifted again, setting with her front along Wynonna’s side, arm slung across her lower back. She stiffened, not sure where cuddling came into play in what she assumed was a one -off mistake Nicole would feel terrible about when she had more clarity. 

A sudden fear grabbed at her chest. What if Nicole freaked and didn’t want to be around Wynonna anymore? Wynonna could practically feel the only tie to any kind of help or friendship dissolving. 

Nicole’s lips against her shoulder drew her out of her head, and she chanced opening an eye. She couldn’t see too much from the small window afforded her from the pillow over her head. All she saw was a mess of red hair cuddled up to her side.

“Sleep, Wynonna,” Nicole muttered.

Well fuck if she needed to be told twice. Wynonna let her body relax back into the mattress, enjoying the feeling of Nicole against her side as she drifted back to sleep.

***

They acted like it never happened. 

That was, until it happened again. And again.

It seemed to start as an unspoken rule that they didn’t fuck when there was a better day. When there was still enough hope to go around. 

Whenever things felt too hard, like the darkness was closing in, they would fall into each other for the comfort. It was raw and visceral and Wynonna’s body would ache for all number of reasons afterwards. For a moment Wynonna could forget. And that was okay. She had to keep telling herself that that was okay.

***

“You’re not going to like it,” Jeremy said. 

“Can it really get worse at this point?” Wynonna crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. 

Jeremy’s eyes darted nervously to Nicole, and it took everything in Wynonna not to roll her eyes. 

“Go on, Jer,” Nicole said softly. 

Wynonna clenched her jaw in annoyance. Nicole kicked her chair and the front legs fell forward again. Their chairs were close enough that Nicole could slip her hand to the small of Wynonna’s back without Jeremy noticing. She jumped at her touch at first, but let herself relax and her jaw unclench.

“Yes, go on,” Wynonna said flatly. “Please.”

“This is...the only way I can think to get to Waverly. And it’s not foolproof,” Jeremy twisted his hands together and it seemed like he was gathering courage. He started pacing, hands motioning through the air as he spoke. “Okay, so, we know when Doc died in the Mad Max version of Purgatory in an alternate universe, he went to hell, right?”

He turned and looked at Wynonna and Nicole who just stared back at him. Wynonna noticed he was definitely skinnier under his sweatshirt, and his beard looked terribly untrimmed. No one had been immune to the wonderful transition brought upon by grief.

Undeterred by their lack of response, Jeremy continued. “He did. He went to hell because of all the bad things he did in life, if the Bible is to be believed which...at this point, it’s all we got. So if we go by what is traditionally believed based on that, if a good person dies, they go to heaven. And what’s in heaven?”

“Angels,” Wynonna breathed. She looked over at Nicole who looked just as shocked by the implications.

“So what you’re saying…” Nicole swallowed thickly, tongue wettening her lips.

“Which is why I said you wouldn’t like it,” Jeremy said. 

They all looked at each other, the heaviness settling over their shoulders as the reality sunk in. 

The silence was killing Wynonna, so instead she decided to speak the obvious. “One of us has to die.”

***

“We know who it needs to be,” Nicole said, as all three of them sat around a table in the Sheriff’s Office and poked in their containers of food with chopsticks.

“No way, Haught,” Wynonna said, before she even finished. “Not happening. My sister. My death.”

“You’re the guardian of the Ghost River Triangle and you have Alice,” Nicole said. 

Wynonna knew she was right. As much as she hated it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t fight it.

“She’s _my_ sister.”

“How about I just do it and you two stop arguing,” Jeremy said, in what had become an increasingly rare show of confidence.

“Are you even fully human?” Nicole asked carefully. “We can’t risk that something will go wrong.”

Jeremy picked up a piece of broccoli with his chopsticks and stared at it. “I’m...not entirely sure what I am.”

“Then you’re out,” Nicole said. “I’m literally the only option.”

“I wouldn’t say _only_ -”

“I have no one, Wynonna,” Nicole said flatly. “I’m human, I’d like to think I’d be considered a good enough person to go to heaven or...whatever it is. And I have no family. You have Alice-”

“You have us, Haught,” Wynonna interrupted. She felt the need to reach out and put her hand over Nicole’s, the one that kept fidgeting nervously with her chopsticks but never actually eating anything. Her noodles were probably more mush than anything by now. But the confession was enough, anymore and Wynonna would feel too open. Too seen.

Brown eyes looked up at Wynonna, and her heart ached with more than just the usual pain.

“Alright,” Nicole turned to look at Jeremy. “I’ll do it. I’ll bring her home.”


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all,
> 
> Again, _please mind the tags._
> 
> Second. Thank you for sticking around for Part Two. I will say, it was really hard to write this fic and definitely took a lot out of me emotionally, so prepare for some tears. I wanted to explore grief and how different people handle it, so it is a lot of that. But hey, we get the show back today!

Wynonna looked up at the ceiling, hands folded over her stomach.

She wanted to sleep, but all she could think about was the hospital bed and complicated machinery set up in the old BBD offices, that Nicole would get hooked up to in the morning. Jeremy wouldn’t say where he got it all from, and with their budget of about negative a hundred dollars, Wynonna didn’t want to know.

“I can hear you thinking,” Nicole said.

Wynonna let out a long sigh and rolled her head to look beside her where Nicole was already looking at her. 

“You can’t _hear_ thoughts,” Wynonna mumbled.

“I can’t sleep either,” Nicole ignored Wynonna’s quiet indignation. “But you should sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re not the one dying tomorrow.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m all chipper about it,” Wynonna said. They lay in silence for a little longer before the question that had been needling Wynonna since they had made the decision. “What are we going to tell her about-”

“I don’t know,” Nicole interrupted. Wynonna saw her thoughts racing behind her eyes as she frowned. “I’ll tell her. We can’t lie to her.”

“Remember when you were in the hospital and you told me that if it came down to it, I would be the one to pull the plug?” Wynonna said softly. Nicole just nodded. “Well, I think I should tell her. I’m the only one she’ll forgive.”

Either Nicole was too tired to argue or she agreed, but the silence settled over them again and Wynonna could feel her chest slowly caving in like a pit dug in the sand too close to the shore. The waves of her grief were getting higher and higher, licking at the edges of the pit and sending sand into the depths. 

Wynonna shut her eyes and turned abruptly onto her side, back to Nicole. She had thought it was as bad as it could get when Waverly was taken, but now she might lose someone else and she didn’t know if she was ready.

She felt Nicole shifting behind her and her eyes fluttered shut when she felt her body against her back. A tentative arm slipped over her hips and pulled Wynonna tight against Nicole’s front. Wynonna felt the tears in the corners of her eyes and put her hand over Nicole’s arm.

“I’ve died before, it’s old hat at this point,” Nicole tried to joke.

Wynonna let out a bark of a laugh and looked down at Nicole’s arm over her. Her fingers bumped over the raised scar on Nicole’s forearm. She remembered Nicole pale and lifeless in the hospital and the helplessness that had seemed to settle over them. The helplessness that led to Waverly making a poor decision. The scar was still fresh looking, stark against her skin.

“Waverly used to rub coconut oil on it every night,” Nicole said, breath just barely tickling Wynonna’s neck, “I keep forgetting.”

Wynonna licked her lips as she blinked some tears away from her eyes. Waverly was good. So good. Nicole, Wynonna had to admit, was also good. Before, Wynonna would have asked how she got blessed to have so many good people in her life, but as the days went on they seemed to disappear just as quickly as they came. They would have been better off without her, she knew. Her mere existence in their lives meant they were gone too soon. 

“She’s good at that stuff. Taking care of other people.”

“Yeah she is,” Nicole said, snuggling closer to Wynonna’s back. 

“We’re going to get her back, Wynonna,” Nicole said nuzzling the back of her ear. “Her and Doc.”

Wynonna was embarrassed to admit she’d almost forgotten about him. Her mind had been so filled with thoughts of Waverly that everything else, everyone else, felt unimportant, even two-dimensional. Including her baby daddy. He had been gone so much anyway that it hardly felt different in the long run.

“What if-”

Nicole cut her off. “Everything will be fine, Wynonna.”

Wynonna just nodded. All she could do was believe Nicole. There really wasn’t any other choice but to drive herself mad. Stupid, stupid Nicole. First to go off the side of a cliff, first to stand in the way of a bullet for someone else, first to sacrifice herself. 

Maybe that’s all whatever they had been doing was, Nicole sacrificing her body night after night so that Wynonna could feel something other than overwhelming pain behind every turn. Nicole gave and gave while Wynonna just _took_. She was selfish, she knew it, and hiding behind her own ‘devil may care’ only went so far. In times like this she was certain she was the devil and she did care, but felt unable to stop.

Nicole’s arm tightening around her pulled Wynonna from her thoughts. Her breath whispered over the shell of Wynonna’s ear. “Just so you know, I don’t regret you.”

Wynonna’s heart felt like it stopped and flew away at the same time, and somewhere between her tears, she finally fell asleep.

***

Wynonna hated hospitals, but this felt worse. 

The dirty linoleum under her feet squeaked as she nervously tapped her foot, arms crossed over her chest as she watched Jeremy hook Nicole up to those goddamn machines. He wrapped that stupid cuff around her arm that always made Wynonna feel claustrophobic, and she rolled her shoulders as she looked away.

It was almost as if she could feel the device tightening around her own arm. Squeezing, heartbeat in her throat, making it hard to breathe.

A light touch made her jump and she looked down at the hand on her arm. Nails perfectly manicured even now. Dark circles under the eyes, body rail thin, but perfectly manicured nails even in the face of adversity was apparently the Haught way. 

Nicole squeezed her arm and Wynonna let out a long sigh. 

“Alright. Ready?” Jeremy said solemnly. 

Wynonna blinked at him, biting the inside of her cheek to keep back the ‘no’ struggling its way out of her chest. Nicole had her other arm on the bed, veins up, ready to receive her death sentence. She nodded and Wynonna felt her stomach turn. Nicole’s hand was still on her arm and _shit_ how fucked up was it that Nicole was the one comforting her when she was about to die. 

“Wait,” Wynonna basically gasped. “Are we sure there isn’t another way.”

They both looked at Wynonna, Jeremy looking afraid to speak for fear she’d rip his head off while Nicole gave her a reassuring nod. 

“It’s okay, Wynonna,” she squeezed her arm. “And remember. If anything goes wrong-“

“Yeah yeah, will is in the safe in your closet,” Wynonna muttered, eyes on her arm as she took Nicole’s hand and held it. Their fingers slotted together and she took a breath in, tears already hot on her face. “And you hurry back with Waves. Okay, Nic?”

Nicole squeezed her hand with that stupid tilt of a grin that made her look more confident than Wynonna knew she was, if the flutter of her pulse under her fingers was anything to be believed.

“You got it, Earp.”

Nicole looked back at Jeremy and nodded.

“Good luck,” he said with a small smile. He ripped open a tiny package with an alcohol wipe and when the sharp smell hit Wynonna’s tongue she felt sick. “I’m going to administer the mixture and your heart will slow-”

Nicole squeezed Wynonna’s hand. “We can skip the details just...pull me out before it’s too late.”

Jeremy’s jaw snapped shut and he nodded once. “You got it, Chief.”

Wynonna looked away as he lowered the syringe to Nicole’s arm. She looked up into brown eyes and saw Nicole’s jaw practically vibrating with nerves. Wynonna’s heart squeezed and she used her other hand to brush red hair away from her clammy forehead. She felt like she should do something. Say something, _anything_. Her tongue felt bitter, mouth full of regret and words she wanted to say, but they all seemed to die in her throat.

Nicole’s eyelids began to droop and just as quickly as she was there, she was gone. Her hand went limp in Wynonna’s and the machine let out one long haunting beep. Jeremy hit the timer on his watch and Wynonna’s hand began to shake as she looked at Nicole’s lifeless body.

“Now we wait.”

***

Light.

Nicole knew her eyes were closed but it was somehow...light.

Or maybe her eyes weren’t closed. 

She blinked, eyes squinting against whatever that light was, but it hurt so she shut them again. For a moment it sounded like metal scraping together and she hunched over on herself, hands over her ears. 

But then, gently, someone called out her name.

_”Nicole_ ”.

She recognized the voice but it wasn’t Waverly. 

“Nana?”

The loud metal sound crashed against her eardrums again and another voice called.

_”Nicole.”_

A chill ran up Nicole’s spine and she forced her eyes to open against the light. It felt like there was a strong gust of wind around her, swirling up her hair and sending a high whistling through her ears. For a moment she saw just the outline of a swirling mass before it settled into the shape of-

“Waverly.”

She was radiant, her body absolutely bathed in light. It felt like Nicole couldn’t breathe, or maybe she didn’t have to wherever she was. It was an odd feeling, being oddly euphoric and yet not feeling any body response. She could have been vapor for the way she felt weightless.

Waverly’s smile was still the brightest thing in the space. Her eyes crinkled at the corners in the way that Nicole always loved. It was hard for her to look at her. Waverly almost floated towards Nicole, and she could only stare.

“Hey, baby,” Waverly said, as she came face to face with Nicole. “I missed you.”

“Waves,” Nicole wanted to cry tears of happiness but just the joy of the situation felt overwhelming. She reached for Waverly, their hands meeting and electricity shooting up her arm. “We have to go. We have to get back to Purgatory.”

Waverly’s smile faltered just a little but she pulled Nicole in, her head resting on her chest. Nicole let her eyes flutter shut, putting her arms around Waverly and breathing her in. But she didn’t smell like sandalwood and wildflowers anymore, it was something else altogether ethereal.

“I can’t go back with you,” Waverly whispered next to Nicole’s ear. She wasn’t surprised for some reason. Maybe it was where they were or _what_ they were that made Nicole just live in this constant state of happiness, even while Waverly dealt her a devastating blow. 

“Why?” Nicole asked. She felt the breeze cease around her and opened her eyes to see them enfolded in white feathers, a little bubble all their own. It took a moment but then Nicole realized. “Your wings.”

Waverly shook her wings out a little bit and chuckled. “They took a second to get used to but now I can’t imagine not having them.”

“Why?” Nicole repeated, even if in her heart she knew the answer.

Waverly sighed, her lips brushing along Nicole’s eyebrows as she spoke. “When I got here it was like...I can’t even accurately describe it in words. Suddenly I knew _everything_ and I can feel everything, but it’s not bad, it’s good. Freeing. I couldn’t survive on Earth anymore, not knowing what I know. Not after ascending. I don’t even have a body to go back to anymore.”

Nicole lowered her head back down to Waverly’s chest, just feeling her. “I love you, Waverly.”

“I love you too. I always will,” Waverly ran her fingers through her hair and Nicole felt a flutter in her chest at the feeling. “But I’ve done my part, the curse is lifted, and now I’m watching over you from here, you know. You and Wynonna and Alice.”

Nicole felt her breath shudder but tears wouldn’t fall. “Please, come back. We need you. I need you.”

Waverly just shook her head, finger on the bottom of Nicole’s chin as she lifted it. Nicole looked into hazel eyes and now she _knew_ she saw constellations in them. It left her breathless.

“If you need me, I’m always here,” Waverly smiled. “I’ll always be there for you. And I’ll be here waiting for you. This is where I belong now.”

“Let me stay,” Nicole said, suddenly afraid to let Waverly go again. Of failing. “Please. I’ll stay with you.”

“It’s not your time yet,” Waverly said. “You have so much good left to do in the world, Nicole Haught. I’ve seen it all.”

Nicole held her tighter. “I want to be with you.”

Waverly pressed a soft kiss to Nicole’s forehead and it felt like her chest was filled with light. She whispered against her skin but with perfect clarity. “You have so much love to give, Nicole. Don’t let yourself hold back. Okay? Promise me that. You deserve happiness. You and Wynonna.”

Nicole’s eyes shot up to Waverly and there was a knowingness in her eyes that Nicole suddenly understood. “But-”

“No buts,” Waverly said firmly. “You both deserve happiness and good in that world. And you can give it to each other. I’ve seen it.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset that the two people I love most in this world are finding happiness in each other?” Waverly said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Nicole shook her head, unwilling to let go of Waverly. “Are you sure you can’t come back with me?”

Waverly looked sad, almost pitying, as she ran her fingers down Nicole’s jaw. “Promise me you’ll take care of Wynonna.”

“I promise, I’ll take care of her in any way I can,” Nicole said, trying to take in every little detail of Waverly’s face. From the way her lips bowed delicately, the gentle slope of her nose and the sharp angle of her jaw that Nicole always loved kissing. “I’m going to miss you. I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.”

Waverly smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners again. “I know. I love you too. And I’ll always be here for you. Okay?”

Nicole forced a small smile and nodded, looking down at their feet but only seeing light. She looked back at Waverly who put her hands on either side of Nicole’s face. Their noses bumped together softly and Nicole felt her breath leave her lungs, a prickling at the back of her neck like she had to be somewhere else but couldn’t figure out where. 

“Tell Wynonna I love her too,” Waverly said, pressing their foreheads together. “Tell Alice I’m always there for her.”

Nicole just stood there as Waverly leaned forward and connected their lips. Her entire body felt like smoke, floating up towards the heavens just to dissipate into the universe. But then her stomach dropped and it felt like she was crashing back to Earth, hands still grasping for something that wasn’t there.

She felt something firm on her back as she gasped for air, lungs and throat burning like she’d swallowed ash as she opened her eyes.

“Ssh, ssh, Haught, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Nicole reached blindly towards the voice and felt Wynonna’s fingers slide between her own. It anchored her as she got her breathing back to normal. When she felt like she could breathe again, Nicole turned her head to look at Wynonna.

Blue eyes held excitement, expectations...fear. 

Nicole’s heart squeezed painfully and she shook her head. “She...she couldn’t come back.”

Wynonna blinked at her as she tried to process, her face dissolving into several different emotions at once, her fingers going limp and sliding from between Nicole’s. Nicole felt her grief catching up with her, the months of searching and hoping and praying to a god she hadn’t even considered since smoking behind the church. It all crashed down on her in a wave and finally, she let herself cry.

***

The pain swirled in her chest like a hurricane, memories and regrets like debris in the storm as they ripped new holes in her chest.

Nicole thought she was braced, thought she was ready. But it figures that nothing could prepare you for losing the love of your life, even if it was to the heavens. Even if she was happy. 

With each new wave of tears it felt like she’d never stop crying. Her pillow had soaked through a thousand times and she was surprised she hadn’t drowned in them yet. She had dreams of seeing Waverly again. They’d just sit and talk about nothing. Nicole was convinced these were real, that Waverly was trying to ease the pain of the realization that she wasn’t coming back from her place beyond. But there were others. Ones where Waverly cried, begged to know why she hadn’t come sooner, maybe then she could have been retrieved. Not saved, never saved. But in those, Waverly would push Nicole out of heaven and she’d fall into the dark where there was nothing but silence. 

She prayed for mercy but it seemed she wasn’t even worthy of death with the way Waverly sent her back. 

Waverly told her she had so much good left to do, but how was she expected to do that when the best part of her was gone forever? _Waverly_ was her good.

The grief felt helpless.

***

“Are we just supposed to...stop trying?” Wynonna could hardly get the words out. But now, sitting in Shorty’s with Doc back behind the bar and Nicole staring into her whiskey glass, Wynonna wasn’t sure what to do. 

“If Waverly said she had no interest in returnin’ back here, I cannot say I blame her,” Doc said as he poured them all another drink. He’d been oddly normal since the Garden spit him back out at the steps. He stumbled into Shorty’s one day, a little disheveled, a little wild eyed, but nothing beyond what Wynonna had been used to from him. 

Jeremy did all the tests on him to see if there was anything abnormal happening but he was still a totally normal...vampire.

They thought foolishly that maybe...maybe Waverly would come out too. If the Garden was done with them, maybe Waverly would be next to come home. 

But days of renewed hope, nights spent camped out at the foot of the stairs, ran out quickly when days slogged into weeks.

The heavy weight settled back into their chest, somehow even more exhausting than the first time. 

She could admit there was a bitterness she felt at him being back, but her baby sister being stuck in the Garden. Wynonna reminded herself that Waverly wasn’t stuck. She was...happy, supposedly. An odd concept. Wynonna couldn’t help but be a little jealous at the idea of happiness actually existing anymore. 

Looking at Doc was hard. It just reminded her that he had been able to follow Waverly up the stairs. Nobody loved Waverly like she did, and yet she’d been locked out while Doc did nothing. Maybe he could have done something, anything. He claimed that he didn’t even see her after they went up to the Garden, insisted he’d looked for her, but Wynonna didn’t know what to believe. He’d always been a selfish man, one she’d spent too much time on.

“Weren’t you stuck in Purgatory the whole time?” Wynonna rolled her eyes. “ _Real_ Purgatory, anyways.”

Doc nodded and appraised the liquid in his raised glass. “Yes, but roaming snowy plains for the rest of eternity was nothing, compared to being in that well for all that time.” His lip curled a little at the memory and Wynonna saw the hint of a fang. He knocked back his drink. “But now we can retrieve Alice Michelle promptly.”

Right. Alice. 

Wynonna stared down at the amber liquid in her glass. 

She wasn’t the heir. She wasn’t the Guardian. She wasn’t...anything but a mother. A piss poor one at that so far. She had already failed Alice so much, was there really anything she could do to redeem herself? 

“It is what Waverly would have desired,” Doc continued, oblivious to her pain. “When, pray tell, shall we be retrieving her?” Doc tipped back his damn hat while he placed both hands on the table. 

“I’ll call Gus,” Wynonna mumbled noncommittally. She took her shot and slammed the glass back on the table. “I’ll go get her.”

“I will accompany you of course,” Doc said.

Wynonna bit the inside of her cheek. Doc was Alice’s father. It was only right. Even if he just seemed to serve as a reminder that he came back and Waverly didn’t. Waverly never would. He was like a cockroach that couldn’t be killed.

“Of course,” Wynonna looked back over at Nicole who was still staring at her glass blankly. 

It seemed since she’d failed to get Waverly, she was stuck in this never ending cycle of grief. Though she supposed dying would have that effect on a person.

“Come on, Haught,” Wynonna nudged her glass a little more towards her. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Nicole drank the whiskey like water, not stopping as she gulped the whole thing down. 

She had been crying nonstop. Wynonna had been relieved at first to see her crying the first tears she’d seen her shed since they all began, then she realized she’d never truly seen her fall apart like this before. She didn’t know what to do.

Though it was easy to figure it out once they got back to the Homestead. At least easy to put off. They both fell onto the bed a mess of tears and sobs of grief. Wynonna wasn’t sure what she was crying about. Her sister being gone? Their horrible failure? Nicole, the strongest person she knew, falling apart in her arms? The cathartic release from the joy that at least Nicole hadn’t been taken from her too. At least she had Nicole, if she couldn’t have Waverly. At least they had each other.

***

Wynonna pulled the pillow out from under Nicole’s head and smacked her with it. Nicole, still mostly asleep, grumbled and reached for the pillow to pull back over her head. Wynonna grabbed it and threw it on the ground.

“Come on. Barn. Five minutes,” Wynonna said, pulling the blanket off of her.

Nicole grumbled but Wynonna didn’t wait around long enough to find out why. She was getting Nicole out of this funk and she was doing it today. The exercise mat she managed to grab from the closet at the BBD offices was set up on the floor and she was doing her hair in a braid when Nicole walked into the barn with her workout tank half off. 

“What do you want, Wynonna?” Nicole said, as she finished pulling her arm through the sleeve.

“I’m surprised you’re here, I thought I’d have to go in and throw water on you.”

“I didn’t want to risk what fresh hell you’d have planned,” Nicole said. 

Wynonna began to stretch out her arms and gestured towards her. “Come on. Warm up.”

“I’m not going to fight you,” Nicole said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Can’t we just use the punching bag?”

“We’re not fighting, just sparring,” Wynonna said as she rolled her shoulders. She wouldn’t tell Nicole how she was desperate to feel her muscles ache, the sharp sting of a bruise when you press down on it. Wynonna wanted the pain on the outside to match the pain on the inside. 

Usually she got her comfort from Nicole through soft gentle caresses and mind blowing orgasms, but that didn’t feel right now.

Everyone else had left them, it seemed. Doc only came around for Alice and Jeremy was just shacked up with Robin. It was just the two of them, but right now Wynonna felt completely alone. They needed to get their frustrations out and the only way Wynonna knew how was through pain.

“Can’t we just go for a run or something instead?” Nicole complained.

Wynonna shook her head and started bouncing on the balls of her feet, hands up in front of her face at the ready. “Come on, Haught.”

“Wynonna-”

Nicole’s whining was beginning to grate. Wynonna punched her shoulder, hard. Nicole’s brows furrowed and she rubbed the spot. 

“Ow! Hey!”

Wynonna punched her other shoulder, and she saw the anger rising in Nicole. Finally. Just where she wanted her.

“Come on, Nic,” Wynonna said, pushing the heel of her hand into Nicole’s sternum and sending her stumbling back. “Fight me. I know you got it in you.”

“Let’s just-”

Wynonna gave Nicole a firm punch to the stomach, not hard enough to really hurt her, but sharp enough to prove a point. Nicole bent over, clutching her stomach and eyes on the ground. Before Wynonna could even consider apologizing, Nicole rushed her, still bent over, so that her shoulder hit Wynonna in the stomach. She drove Wynonna down onto her back, long legs bracketing Wynonna’s body.

“What the _hell_ ,” Nicole growled, pinning Wynonna’s wrists to the mat. Wynonna smirked at her and planted her feet onto the mat, thrusting her hips up to dismount Nicole and roll her onto her back. Wynonna pinned her for a moment and flicked her ear.

“I knew you had it in you.”

Nicole pushed Wynonna off of her and she bounced back to her feet, waiting for Nicole to get off the ground. They stood looking at each other for a moment, chests already heaving. Nicole’s lips curled back in a snarl as she hit Wynonna in the side, quickly advancing on her with flying fists and fast feet.

Wynonna fought back, dodging and blocking her hands when she could but relishing in the sharp pain when she missed. The adrenaline coursed through her veins and she began to act on sheer instinct. Limbs flew and she sought out flesh time and time again. Sweat began to streak down their bodies and make it harder to grab onto each other. 

It wasn’t until Wynonna was hurting Nicole, when she would hear the woman grunt in pain and want to inflict more, that she was mad at her. She always knew it, maybe, but she had been so distracted by her own anger at herself that she didn’t realize she was mad at Nicole. Nicole couldn’t convince Waverly to come back, she let her stay there. _Nicole_ was the reason that Waverly wasn’t back. She could have said _something_ to make her come back, anything. If you wanted something done right, you really just had to do it yourself. 

Wynonna hit and punched and kicked until they were just a messy tangle of limbs, and every muscle in her body screamed in protest. Sweat dripped into her eyes and their bodies slid together as they grappled. Both exhausted, they clashed with a grunt, their upper bodies pressed together and arms basically hugging as they tried to get the other on the floor. Wynonna knew she only had one good burst of energy in her, so she turned around and pulled Nicole’s arm over her shoulder, lifting her over her back and dropping her to the floor.

Her smirk had a mean edge to it as she wiped her arm across her forehead, looking down at Nicole. 

“How about them bean-”

Wynonna grunted in surprise as Nicole’s leg swept her legs out from under her and sent her to the floor. She landed flat on her stomach and blinked, dazed, as she looked at Nicole’s almost flat expression.

“You got cocky.”

With one more burst of energy, Wynonna rolled onto Nicole to pin her down but Nicole managed to pull Wynonna flat against her chest, back to front. Wynonna tried to catch her breath, pulling uselessly at the strong arm across her chest and holding her captive. 

She wiggled a little bit in an attempt to get free but the arm just tightened. 

“Just breathe,” Nicole panted in her ear. “Breathe.”

Wynonna’s heart was a painful mess in her chest and each beat felt like a needle was slowly being pushed into the ruined muscle. The longer she was still the more she felt the pain and tears bubbling up into her throat and she shook her head and tried to push herself out of Nicole’s grasp.

“Ssh,” Nicole soothed, tightening her hold. “ _Breathe_.”

With one painful sob, Wynonna felt the final strings keeping her together fall away, coming unraveled in Nicole’s stupid arms. She was supposed to be getting Nicole out of her funk, not the other way around. Why did she always have to be the one breaking down.

“Why didn’t you make her come back?” Wynonna cried to the ceiling. “If it was me- If I had gone instead of you.”

“Ssh, let it out,” Nicole rubbed her thumb along Wynonna’s forearm and another sudden burst of anger hit her. How dare she try to comfort her. How could she-

“Maybe I could have gotten her to come back,” Wynonna said. “Maybe-”

“She couldn't come back,” Nicole said. “She couldn’t have if she wanted to.”

Her tears mixed with the sweat streaming down her face and she turned her head, nose brushing against Nicole’s cheek. 

“Nicole-”

“It’s okay,” Nicole’s voice was rough, tears just below the surface as she turned her face so that their noses bumped together. “It’s okay.”

Wynonna went to move again and Nicole let her. She moved her arm to cup the back of Nicole’s skull, fingers threading through the sweaty strands. She pulled her impossibly close and they just cried together on the gross sweaty mats that smelled a little like ass. They cried and they fucked, but even their fucking felt like a mercy.

Their bodies moved and rolled, touching each other’s bruises as they gasped and remembered all the facets to being alive. The pain, the euphoria, the things Wynonna wanted to forget and the things she hoped she remembered forever. It was the first time they’d touched each other like that since they realized Waverly wasn’t coming home, and it felt like a release. Like their shared passion slowly healed the pain, just for a moment. 

***

Wynonna pushed her sunglasses up her nose, a bead of sweat making its way down her temple.

Gus always did say she was ready for the desert weather, Wynonna just didn’t think she was serious.

The dirt crunched under her feet as she walked up the pathway to Gus’ door, a small adobe style home with a front yard stuffed with succulents. It was hot as balls and Wynonna couldn’t escape the feeling that she’d forgotten something. A terrible itch at the back of her neck, making her flesh twitch and fingers restless. 

Doc’s hand was on the small of her back as she rang the doorbell, and she shrugged it off. His touch felt foriegn, cold. Maybe it was due to the whole vampire thing. Or that fact that he just spent a whole plane ride white-knuckling his arm rests.

Wynonna just stared at the screen door, heart basically in her throat. What if Alice didn’t like her? What if she didn’t want to leave? What if-

The door opened and Wynonna could only barely make out the shape of Gus through the screen before she opened that too. She looked the same as ever, just with a little bit more of a tan over the bridge of her nose.

Gus immediately pulled Wynonna in her arms and after a moment of shock she hugged her back.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Gus said, throat scratchy. “Waverly. My angel.”

Wynonna’s throat constricted. “I know, Gus.”

“She was too good for this world,” Gus said fondly. “Always had been.”

They just stood in silence for a moment, the wind chime tinkling prettily in the background. If Wynonna was a more spiritual person she might believe it was Waverly. Sure she had believed Willa was haunting her at one point, but it was always easier to accept the bad things than the good for her.

“So, Wynonna,” Gus sighed. “Are you ready to see your daughter?”

Wynonna moved through the house, pushing open the door of the room Gus led her to. The wall was painted a pale blue, with a trim of yellow ducks along the top. There was a crib in the corner and two chubby hands gripping onto the rail. Wynonna smiled in joy as two bright eyes looked back at her, wisps of honey brown hair on a tiny head.

“Oh my god,” Wynonna couldn’t bring herself to touch her. Alice was like this special being that just happened to come out of her, but she was sure if she touched her she’d be cursed too. “She looks like Waves.”

“I thought so too,” Gus said as she picked Alice up from the crib. She kissed the side of her head and held her out to Wynonna. 

With shaking hands, Wynonna reached for her daughter and pulled her against her chest. The baby cooed and chubby fists balled into Wynonna’s shirt. She buried her nose in the soft downy hair on her head and breathed in what could only be described as ‘baby’.

It felt like a sharp wire was being coiled tighter and tighter around her chest as she hugged her baby girl tighter. 

_I’m going to ruin you_ , she thought as the joy of having her baby in her arms was tempered by reality. _I can’t protect you, I couldn’t protect Waverly. I’m going to ruin you. I’m going to ruin you._

***

Later that night, Doc was watching a video on his phone about changing diapers while Alice Michelle cooed in his lap, pulling on his mustache. Wynonna and Gus sat in the kitchen by themselves, mostly just silence between them. They’d never been good at this whole talking thing. 

“I blamed you at first, you know,” Gus finally said as she stirred her tea. “I thought it had to be your fault.

Wynonna’s stomach dropped, but she wasn’t surprised. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

The silence settled again and Wynonna added. “For the record, I blame myself too.”

Gus shook her head. “Waverly is a smart girl, we both know that. If she had wanted to, or been able to get back, she’d know how.”

It was a point Wynonna had thought about many times, but found it hard to swallow. There was always a way to do...anything right? So why not now? Why not this?

Gus reached out and covered Wynonna’s hand with her own. “It’s not your fault, Wynonna. You hear me?” Wynonna looked up at the fierce older woman, remembering the grief she’d been burdened with in her life. “It was never your fault.”

Wynonna looked down at her tea and wondered what a life without guilt would feel like.

***

Wynonna wasn’t good enough to be a mother.

She knew it from the moment she held Alice in her arms on that smelly pool table. She wasn’t good enough for Alice, but she would sure as hell fight to make sure she was safe.

But there was nothing to fight anymore. 

Wynonna wasn’t the heir. She wasn’t the Guardian. She was a no one. Even Doc was better at this whole parent thing that she was. Alice would squeal and pull joyfully on his mustache but scream when Wynonna picked her up. She wouldn’t go to sleep for her but one soft, gravely lullaby from Doc and she was asleep like a-...well, a baby.

Thank whatever god Wynonna believed in anymore for Nicole, though.

She seemed like a goddamn baby whisperer for the way that she got that baby to eat. 

All of it just proved her point. Wynonna wasn’t even fit to be a mom. Not to the perfect little girl that was Alice. She didn’t deserve to be the heir, just fell into it because Willa was thought dead. Then actually dead. She wasn’t meant to be a Guardian and certainly didn’t deserve it if she couldn’t even protect her baby sister from being taken into the Garden. 

Everything good in her life she had fallen upon by circumstances and chance, it was never meant for her. They never were.

***

Was it bad that it felt good?

Was it bad that Nicole’s hands and mouth on her made Wynonna feel special in a kind of way she’d never felt? Cherished, almost. It would have been easy to blame it on sleeping with a man versus a woman thing, but Wynonna had slept with other women before Nicole and it had never felt like this. 

Like she mattered.

And it was easy to get addicted to that feeling, she realized.

It did more to take away the pain and the hurt than the sharp taste of whiskey on her tongue. But Wynonna couldn’t hurt whiskey. She could curse at it and ignore it all she wanted and it would still be there. There was something addicting about the ability to hurt someone and always know they’ll come back.

Wynonna had used her words to push people away in the past and it had always worked. It gave her a reason to be cocky and say she knew that would happen all along even while her chest hurt with disappointment again. She wasn’t worth sticking around for. That was fine.

But Nicole was relentless. Ever since Waverly had been gone she seemed to be extra attentive. She was always _there_. 

Consistency didn't work well for Wynonna. At least that’s what she’d always convinced herself. Consistency meant relying on people and relying on people meant sticking around long enough until they inevitably disappointed you. She was good at bringing out the worst in people, after all. At least that’s what she’d always been told. 

But Nicole seemed determined. No amount of lashing out seemed to affect her. Those big brown eyes would look slightly more broken but she still kissed Wynonna just as gently and held her just as close. 

Nicole’s words were sweet and thick like candy. They coated Wynonna’s tongue like sugar and made her thirsty. Sickly sweet words that would just rot and spoil someone.

Wynonna could feel herself getting spoiled, getting used to being treated like she was worth something. 

A lie she would never let herself fall into. 

So she would keep trying to push Nicole away. Even if she never got the hint. 

***

“We gotta talk, Nic,” Wynonna handed Nicole a beer from the fridge and sat besides her on the Homestead porch. 

Nicole kicked her long legs out, a stain on her pants from where Alice had spilled from food on her before Doc picked her up. Wynonna had just watched from the living room as Nicole triple checked that Doc had the car seat hooked up correctly, while her stomach turned. Wynonna had come out of the bathroom when she saw Nicole in the living room getting Alice’s overnight bag together. 

Thrusting her little fists up into the air to be picked up, Alice muttered a tiny, “Mama.”

Nicole looked just as surprised as Wynonna felt. She ducked back into the bathroom and caught her pale face in the mirror. Her stomach twisted and reached up to pull her heart down into it. 

“What are we talking about?”

Nicole interrupted Wynonna’s thoughts and she took a long sip of her beer to buy her some time. How you get rid of someone you’re not sure you can live without, but living with them is getting too painful?

“I think you should move back out,” Wynonna shrugged and took another sip. “Getting a little crowded here.”

Nicole didn’t say anything. She just tipped her beer back and drained half of it. As she lowered the bottle she rested her arms on her knees, looking out at the land with a crinkled brow. Wynonna had to admit she looked good like that. Cut off shirt revealing her entire side and jeans stained with her baby's food. 

“Where is this coming from?” Nicole turned to look at Wynonna. 

“Been thinking about it for a while,” Wynonna lied. 

_Too close too many chances to hurt too much-_

Nicole chuckled dryly, tone dripping in sarcasm. “Sure, Wynonna.”

“I’m serious.”

Nicole looked over at her, tears at the corners of her eyes. God, now that she had started crying it felt like every time Wynonna turned around she was on the verge of them. 

“So this is what you’re trying this week to push me away, fine,” Nicole said. “What triggered it this time?”

Wynonna chewed on the inside of her cheek. She hated this weird ability Nicole had where she seemed to know Wynonna too well and it made her feel like she was wearing a perpetually wet sweater, heavy and uncomfortable. But she couldn’t shrug it hard no matter how hard she tried. 

“What will it be next week after I ignore this attempt too?”

“I don’t-”

“Bullshit,” Nicole took another angry swig of her beer. “Just because you refuse to see what I see.”

“And what’s that?”

“That this - whatever this is - works, Wynonna.”

“ _This-_ ,” she gestured between them with her free hand. “-is nothing.”

Nicole just looked at her and Wynonna heard geese in the distance. She looked out towards the woods and just hoped Nicole took this chance to walk away. Finally. Nicole stood up and Wynonna’s chest caved in as all her greatest fears and greatest wishes came true. Nicole was leaving. 

Instead of walking down to her car like Wynonna expected, she stepped down and stood on the step in front of her. Nicole crouched down to Wynonna’s eye level and pushed her way into Wynonna’s space. She dropped her knees to the step where Wynonna’s feet were and her legs naturally fell open to accommodate her body. 

Nicole held Wynonna’s face in her hands and forced her to look at her.

Wynonna pushed down the hope she desperately didn’t want. 

“It’s not nothing to me,” Nicole said firmly, fire behind her eyes. “Do you understand? This will never be nothing to me. You can pretend that this means nothing to you, but I know you’re lying. You’ve always been a shitty liar.”

Wynonna wanted to argue that she was the _best_ liar but Nicole’s mouth swallowed her words. Each second their lips pressed together it felt like a balm on Wynonna’s heart. She could feel the scars softening and fading each time Nicole pulled her back in like this. But she had always cherished the scars, revelled in remembering where each jagged mark came from. A reminder to never let anyone get close enough to hurt her again. But maybe...maybe she could just let Nicole heal her a little longer. Just one more time. It was always just one more time.

***

Nicole pressed her face into Wynonna’s shoulder as she startled herself awake. It was the same dream. The one she always had. Nicole would be more weirded out if she had a different dream at this point.

But she lay there and breathed in Wynonna’s skin, smoky like whiskey and gunpowder and leather, all rolled up into one uniquely Wynonna package. Nicole pressed her front to Wynonna’s back, arm around Wynonna’s waist and up across her chest protectively. She sighed, and as her body relaxed, molded more into her. It surprised Nicole sometimes how well they fit together. 

When she was in Japan, she had learned about the art of Kintsugi pottery. She remembered sitting quietly and watching in fascination as a master took the fragmented pieces of china and lovingly lined the jagged edges with liquid gold. The precious metal softened the edges so that another broken piece could fit besides it. After the master would spend hours reconstructing a simple cup, piece by piece, a brand new cup would emerge. One more beautiful and intricate than before, gold lines connecting the once separated pieces apart. It didn’t hide where it was once broken, just accentuated it and made it more amazing than before.

Nicole imagined herself as that cup. All the little broken pieces, haunted dreams from her childhood that almost felt like memories, it all added up to the person she was today. Carefully and beautifully put back together, just to hold things inside of. And she could hold and her cracks wouldn’t leak under the weight of it all, only getting dangerously close to spilling over the edge every time she took on the weight of someone else’s pain. 

Now, Nicole imagined herself as part of a bigger picture. She and Wynonna, two broken pieces trying so desperately to fit together but not entirely sure how. Every time it felt like the gold between them was almost dried, two small broken pieces becoming a part of one bigger broken piece, Wynonna would push Nicole away. Her edges would become sharp again and Nicole would have to try once more. 

It was exhausting, but worth it. Nicole had to take care of Wynonna, even if she didn’t want her to. It’s what Waverly wanted and there was no way that Nicole was going to let her down. Even then, Nicole knew she needed Wynonna maybe just as much as Wynonna needed her. They had always been a little at odds, butting heads and bickering with each other but those felt like the sparks that lit the fire between them. If those were the sparks, their pain was the tinder that set them ablaze. 

The hero complex that had been buried deep in her from the moment she realized no one was going to bother saving her but herself, the one that drove her to help those that were forgotten, it kept her going back time and time again after Wynonna tried to push her away. Maybe her true flaw was not knowing when holding on was doing more harm than just letting go. 

Nicole knew she couldn’t let go. Wynonna was the only other person in the world that felt that unique brand of pain that was losing Waverly Earp. Waverly had been the number one person they’d die protecting, and there was a point that Nicole knew that they would have killed each other too if that meant protecting Waverly. But now their person was gone. Forever. 

They both knew that they had become each other’s number one, even if they didn’t talk about it.

Wynonna stirred and Nicole held her tighter, needing the comfort of her body against hers. She stretched a little in Nicole’s embrace, hand lacing with Nicole’s on her chest.

“I can hear you thinking,” Wynonna mumbled, still half asleep.

“You told me that wasn’t a thing.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind,” Wynonna said, as she brought their hands closer to her face. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

Wynonna was soft like this, when she was half asleep. Soft and warm and not thinking about whatever demons chased her away from Nicole time and time again. It made Nicole’s heart thump dumbly in her chest and sleep didn’t come long after that.

***

The room was spinning again. 

Fuck.

Wynonna looked down at the whiskey bottle in her hand and frowned. Had she really had that much to drink?

She looked back up into Waverly’s room, an untouched relic of the past. The bed was neatly made, but Waverly had a book sitting on the table, spine up, never to be finished. Other than that everything else looked...normal. Ready for Waverly to come back home. 

She hadn’t stepped foot in here since the night that she came up to make Haught fall asleep. Now it just felt like a mausoleum, like it had when it was still Willa’s room. But Waverly did what Waverly was best at, she took something cold and lifeless and made it homey and warm. Waverly had always been just a ray of sunshine and happiness, the total opposite of her sisters even though she was given the worst lot of them all. 

Wynonna took another swig of the whiskey. 

Waverly had been everything good in the world. Maybe a little selfish at times, but who wasn’t? People would always say flaws made you beautiful and unique, but with Waverly it was true. Wynonna felt herself missing her more and more everyday. When was this supposed to end?

Wasn’t she supposed to come to the acceptance part of her grief chart by now? 

When she had Alice, it was easier to ignore the ball of hurt in her chest that had manifested and grown between the sinewy muscle around her heart. Every day she saw more and more of herself in Alice and she felt like she was going to watch her own mistakes replay in her beautiful little girl.

If Waverly had been here, that wouldn’t have happened.

Wynonna really fucking screwed this shit up this time. 

Alice had to live without Waverly and now Wynonna was finally getting rid of one of the only positive influences on her. At least that was if Haught got the hint with the way Wynonna threw all her clothes out in the snow.

She took another long gulp of whiskey, the burn hardly registering anymore. 

Nicole deserved more than her. She barely deserved Waverly, but she certainly should have better than Wynonna. She had to push her away for her own good. For both of them. 

She heard Nicole’s car pulling up the driveway and finished off the whiskey bottle. It’d be better if she was as wasted as possible for this. She leaned more against the doorway, head rolling against the cold wood. If she tried hard enough she could smell Waverly’s perfume and hear her laugh.

The whiskey bottle was pulled out of her hand and she blindly reached for it but hit Nicole’s leg instead. Wynonna scoffed and turned back against the doorframe.

“Wy,” Nicole said softly, hands carefully landing on her shoulders. “Let’s get you in bed.”

“Fuck’ff,” she slurred. “Don’t you get a hint?”

“I’m not fucking off. Now come on-”

“No.”

“Wynonna-”

“What the fuck is your fetish with pain, anyways?” Wynonna mumbled, pushing away Nicole’s hands. “You like how broken I am. How broken we are together.”

“You’re drunk.”

Wynonna shook her head. “We fucked up, Nic. Look at us? What are we doing? Fucking behind Waverly’s back when she’s-”

“We’re not doing anything wrong,” Nicole reached for Wynonna and she pushed her away again. 

Nicole took Wynonna’s face in her hands and Wynonna tried to shove them away, blue eyes red and rimmed with tears that stubbornly refused to fall. Nicole tried to grab Wynonna’s wrists but she kept pushing her away, landing a stinging slap to Nicole’s cheek.

“Wynonna,” Nicole implored, despite grabbing for her hands. 

Nicole finally got a hold of her wrists, holding them in a bruising grip as she pulled Wynonna’ close, their arms folding between them. She dipped her head, trying to catch Wynonna’s eyes as she watched her mouth press into a thin line.

Wynonna finally stopped struggling and she stared down at where Nicole’s hands held her wrists. “You know I fucking hate that you’re so strong, Haught,” she mumbled, voice thick.

“I know you do,” Nicole said, leaning down and kissing Wynonna’s knuckles. She kept her eyes on Wynonna and when her lips touched Wynonna’s skin, blue eyes flickered up to hers and she smiled against the back of her hand. “Wynonna. You deserve to be happy.”

Wynonna scoffed and looked away, trying to pull from Nicole’s grip again but she held strong.

“Wynonna,” Nicole said again. “You deserve to be _happy_. We both-...we both deserve to be happy.”

Wynonna’s giant exhale turned into a shuddery breath, her body crumpling and falling forward into Nicole. Her arms remained folded against her front as Nicole hugged her. Hot tears streamed down Wynonna’s face, soaking Nicole’s shirt as she sobbed.

***

Wynonna always thought she was feeling better until she wasn’t. It was like for a moment she could glimpse this ideal fantasy where Alice grew up with her and Nicole and Doc and they were one happy family. 

There were moments she thought she could let herself break and mold into the person she wanted to be, the one who could be loved by Nicole. But the shadow of her sister loomed over her and she knew she could never live up to her when she was alive, let alone the idealized version of her now that she was gone. 

As much as it pained Wynonna to give up any last shred of hope she could have a normal life now, it would hurt worse the longer she hung on. It would be better just to quit now before it got messier. Before she took anyone else down with her. Before Alice remembered her.

***

“Just let me die.”

“Not on my watch, Earp.”

Wynonna, barely conscious, felt herself pulled up by the front of her jacket and poured over the toilet. The blackness was beginning to fuzz the edges of her vision, eyelids getting heavy as she felt sleep overtaking her.

“Don’t go to sleep,” Nicole said, pinching Wynonna’s face with her hand and forcing her mouth open. Wynonna made a noise of protest but felt something push down her throat. She tried to slap away Nicole’s hand but she just held her face tighter. Gagging, she felt bile rise up, burning her throat. 

Her mind felt fuzzy, and as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet she realized she failed again.

Wynonna must have blacked out because when she came to, she was sitting in the bathtub in just her underwear and bra. Her entire body felt hot, skin clammy, and throat raw. It felt like her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth and she tried to swallow but her throat was swollen.

A glass of water was shoved into her vision but she couldn’t even lift her arm to reach for it. Nicole leaned forward and raised the glass to her lips. Wynonna drank greedily before Nicole pulled the glass away.

“You’re an idiot,” Nicole whispered to her. “What if Alice had walked in?”

Wynonna frowned. “She can barely walk on her own-”

“That’s not the point.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Then why didn’t you let me die? Alice would have been better off anyways.”

“You can’t keep doing this, Wynonna.”

“It hurts so much,” Wynonna whispered, clutching at the gap in her chest where her heart used to be. “I can’t do this anymore. Not to Alice.”

“That girl needs her mother,” Nicole said, like she had a thousand times before as if Wynonna had any ability to agree. “She needs you.”

“Everyday it hurts more,” Wynonna pulled her knees up to her chest. It felt like a sharp wind was constantly blowing through the open wounds in her chests. “I failed Waverly, I failed you, I’ll fail her too.”

Nicole moved in front of Wynonna, her legs bracketing her body. “You haven’t failed anyone,” Nicole shook her head. “What can I do to make you understand that?”

“Another round of electroshock maybe.”

Nicole held Wynonna as best she could with her knees bent between them. Wynonna let herself be held, enjoying the warmth of Nicole’s body.

“What can I do to make you stop trying to hurt yourself?” Nicole whispered, fingers brushing through brown locks. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

Wynonna could be whip quick with a pun or insult, tongue sharp and aimed to strike at anyone who dared try to get one over her. It also made her good at hurting other people but the person she always knew how to destroy with just the simplest gesture was herself. 

“Leave,” Wynonna croaked, lifting her head to look at Nicole. The bathroom light overhead cast shadows on her face but didn’t hide the hurt in her eyes. “Leave and don’t come back.”

“Seriously?”

“You said you’d do anything,” Wynonna spit, pulling her knees closer to her chest. “I want you to leave.”

“If I leave, you promise not to hurt yourself like this again?” Nicole’s voice wavered with unleashed emotions.

Wynonna just nodded.

Nicole took a sharp intake of breath and dropped her arms from around Wynonna. “You promise?”

“I promise on Alice’s life itself,” Wynonna said. “I’ll stick around until she doesn’t need me anymore.”

Was this it? Was she finally getting what she wanted? Was it about to be proven that she wasn’t worthy of love again? Was someone else about to leave her?

It was her own goddamn self-fulfilling prophecy.

“Okay.”

Nicole’s voice sounded sad. Defeated. Wynonna hoped to hear relief in Nicole’s tone, to feel even a slight sense of triumph, but instead she felt even worse. Nicole was so good and she was the bad guy again. Nicole leaned back against the tub.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” Nicole looked at the hands in her lap. “If it’s what you need. And you promise-”

“I promise, Haught.” Wynonna’s whole body pulsed in pain. “I promise.”

***

The glass was cool against Nicole’s forehead. She gazed out the bus window, watching the trees and mountains streak by. The snow had begun to melt on the ground, but there was still a little bit of snow over the landscape. Honestly, Nicole could barely remember what summer looked like here. It had always felt like they were in a constant state of winter.

She scratched at her worn jeans, dirty nails catching on a frayed spot for a moment. How long had it been? Twenty years?

As the bus pulled into town it looked like no time had passed. Not that she was surprised, Purgatory had always been resistant to change. Shouldering her backpack, Nicole got off the bus and took a deep breath of Purgatory air. Crisp, clean, but a rotten smell just on the edges that you could miss if you weren’t looking for it.

The bus pulled away and Nicole shook her head as she looked up at the familiar Shorty’s sign. It hadn’t changed. Maybe a little more dirt here and there but altogether it was the same as the last time she’d walked out of town. 

She had stopped by Shorty’s to say goodbye to Alice and Doc, duffle bag over her shoulder and heart beaten to a pulp. 

Nicole tried to forget the feeling but it had never really left her chest.

With a deep breath, she walked up to the door and glanced at the “Closed for a Private Event” sign before walking in.

She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the low light, the smell of smoke apparent in the air and the sound of music playing somewhere. Once her eyes adjusted, she looked around and saw a table of familiar faces looking back at her. Six eyes just stared. One set almost identical to Wynonna’s; it was like seeing her in the flesh again.

“Hey,” Nicole managed, small wave by her hip before dropping it back to her side. “I um...came for Wynonna.”

Doc was the first one to stand slowly, glass of whiskey in his hand and cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he slowly approached her. He hadn’t aged a day, brows furrowed and brim of his hat low over his eyes. Nicole stood a little taller as he looked her over, jaw tight. He nodded once and handed her the glass of whiskey, clapping her shoulder with the other hand.

“Welcome back, Officer Haught,” he said with a small sad smile. “Good to see you back in ol’ Purgatory.”

“I’m not an Officer anymore,” she said with a relieved sigh. “But thank you.”

Doc nodded with a hum and opened up towards the table as he gestured. “I suspect you already know these faces.”

Jeremy had a handsome, well-kept beard that had streaks of grey through it. He got up from the table and immediately enveloped Nicole in a hug. She stood there for a moment shell-shocked at the warm gesture before returning it. She hugged him tight and he squeezed her.

“You’re home,” he said before pulling away with a wide smile. “I wasn’t sure if- I mean you never answered about-...” He shook his head and held up his hand, gold ring on his finger. “Robin and I got married! And I’ve had sex way more than one and a half times by now.”

Nicole laughed, the old muscles struggling to work again as she smiled. “I’m happy for you, Jeremy. For you both.”

She shot back her whiskey with a hiss before looking over at the final face at the table. Her heart melted and hurt at the same time, or maybe she had just forgotten how devastating happiness can be occasionally.

“Alice,” Nicole smiled, finger tapping nervously on the rim of the empty glass she held down by her leg. “You probably don’t remember me.”

She was the spitting image of Wynonna. Dark, thick waves pulled back into a messy braid, sharp blue eyes that could cut through diamonds and just an air about her that screamed cool.

“Of course I do,” Alice said as she stood up with a roguish grin. “These two would never let me forget you if I tried, Nicole.”

The revelation hit her unexpectedly hard in the chest. A rock slide breaking over her ribs and exposing her most sensitive parts. Nicole tried to breathe but it just felt sharp in her chest, eyes clouding over with tears as she reached for the girl and pulled her into her arms. 

***

Nicole stared at the envelope in her hands, Wynonna’s writing on the front. It just read: Nicole.

Doc had handed it to her earlier at the memorial before they went up to the Homestead to bury Wynonna’s ashes. Nicole didn’t ask how she died, she didn’t want to know. She knew it would always be a suicide, but Nicole didn’t think Wynonna had a choice. 

The years of pain and disappointments had made a cancerous tumor in her chest, and Nicole knew she couldn’t fight it anymore.

Everyone else had gone back into the Homestead to drink some more, but Nicole made her way back out to Wynonna’s grave with an envelope that felt like lead in her pocket.

“This is very dramatic of you, to leave a letter,” Nicole said to the gravestone. Beside it was Waverly’s, a stone with no body underneath. A placebo. Nicole flipped the envelope over and Wynonna had written what seemed like every possible pun she could think of with Nicole’s last name. She smiled fondly at ‘Tater Haught’ as she carefully slid her finger under the flap. It popped open and Nicole slowly took the letter out, unfolding it.

She took a deep breath and read.

_Dear Nicole,_

_God that sounds formal. Whatever, these are my final words to you so they have to be formal or memorable or whatever. Anyways. Here it goes._

_I was never good with words, I was never good with emotions. You knew that._

_I’m sorry I drove you away when I needed you most, but damn you scared the shit out of me, Haught. You were always so brave and strong, even when you weren’t. I know you’re thinking I’m full of it right now, but it’s true. You will always be one of the best people I know. I’m sorry I didn’t deserve you, the same way I never deserved Alice._

_Alice. Speaking of Alice, I see so much of you in her. It’s disgusting. She’s started hiking, what kinda kid her age does that?_

_There’s a lot of Waverly in her too. As soon as she could read she’d always have a book in her hand. She’s so crazy smart, just like Waves. Sometimes when she’s sitting in the living room and the sun hits her just right, I swear I see Waverly. People tell me that she looks like me, but I still only see her. Maybe it’s because I only see the best parts about my Alice, and the best parts of me were always Waverly and you._

_Yeah yeah, sappy, I know. But it’s true._

_You made me a better person, Nicole. You made me dare to dream of a normal life after our world went to hell and that’s why I had to make you leave. I love you, Nicole. And I destroy everything I love._

_But look, I kept my promise. I stayed until Alice didn’t need me anymore. She’s got Doc and her friends and she’s leaving to travel Europe soon. Despite my influence, she grew up to be a good kid after all. And I’d definitely call that a miracle._

_Anyways, I’m running out of time. It’s time to go and I just wanted you to know that I regret a lot of things in my life, but I don’t regret us. I couldn’t leave you thinking that I regretted every moment we shared. You held me together for my little girl, and I’ll forever be grateful for that. So keep your chin up. Remember the good bottle of whiskey I keep under the first stair of the Homestead. And don’t forget that I love you._

_I’ll tell Waverly you say ‘hey’._

_Love,  
Wynonna_

Nicole didn’t realize she was crying until a tear landed on her shaking hand. She quickly wiped at her eyes and reread the letter a few times before chuckling and reaching for the bottle of booze she had taken from the Homestead.

“As if I’d forget where the good booze was, Wynonna,” she said as she took a sip straight from the bottle. “Jokes on you, you raised a good kid. Even if you never thought you would. She’s all you.”

Nicole stared at the headstone like it was going to talk back. After all the time she’d spent isolated in the woods she wouldn’t say she’d be surprised if it did. She’d managed conversations with other inanimate objects before, especially when she was first getting used to being alone. 

“I miss you,” Nicole said, taking another swig of the whiskey. “I’ve missed you every moment of every day since I left. You and Waverly and Alice.” Nicole shook her head. “It wasn’t fair, you pushing me away like that. But I got so tired of fighting. I think I thought maybe...this was better for both of us. Maybe it was.” Nicole screwed the cap back on the booze and set it aside, opening the letter once more. “I’ll see you soon though, I promise.” Nicole’s words carried themselves on the wind and up to the heavens.

***

Nicole dropped the final load of wood down at the bottom of the tree, wiping her hands off on her chaps. She took a sharp intake of breath and adjusted her suspenders, just tasting the pine on her tongue. Strapping the wood back onto her back, toolbelt around her waist, Nicole climbed up the tree until she got to the little platform she made between the trees. 

She heard the call of a bird above and looked up through the canopy, hoping for a glimpse but all she saw was the tip of a wing before it was gone. 

Nicole bent over the platform from where she was hooked into the tree and began to widen it until it was big enough for her to sit on. She tested it, pushing down on it with all her weight to make sure it didn’t budge. 

A bead of sweat dropped out of her hair and down the collar of her shirt.

By the time she was done it was night. She looked at her new little hideaway one last time before climbing back down the tree and going back to her trailer. She had off tomorrow too. She’d be back. 

***

The air was thinner on her platform.

It made Nicole lightheaded as she gazed out at the mountains beyond the trees. It was easy to feel small and insignificant up here. She was a mere dot in a sea of endless green that was barely a pin prick on the globe. The universe and all its mysteries were massive. More than she could even begin to imagine.

Nicole lit some incense - sandalwood - and felt the breast pocket on her favorite well worn flannel to make sure Wynonna’s letter was in there. The writing around the crease had faded from it being opened and folded again so many times, but Nicole couldn’t bring herself to stop reading it.

There was a sad hopefulness in her chest that made it hard to breathe. Or maybe it was just the air. 

She tilted her face towards the sun and felt the rays on her face. She took a deep breath of the pine and fresh air and smiled. 

She was happy. She had done what she’d promised, all those years ago. This was the beginning of something else. Something new. 

Nicole felt her pocket to make sure her driver’s license was in there before pulling out an orange prescription bottle. The pills still rattled inside, the ones she never took because she was afraid of how they’d make her feel. The ones the doctor said she needed to sleep, but it was so much easier to stay awake instead.

The past twenty years felt like its own kind of Purgatory. 

Nicole worked day in and day out, manual labor that made her body ache and her life much harder to insure. 

She wondered what would have happened if she picked up the phone in that first year after she left. The numbers were all private but she knew it was Wynonna. It couldn’t be anyone else. Her wounds were so raw then, she couldn’t let Wynonna open them back up. After the first year she always said she’d answer the next time Wynonna called. She just didn’t think it’d be like this.

Nicole flipped open the cap of her water bottle and set it on the platform before picking up the medicine bottle. 

She had already died before, what was one more time?

Nicole didn’t hesitate for a moment as she dropped the pills into her mouth and chugged her water until there was nothing left. The pills left a bitter taste on her tongue and she coughed, shaking her head for a moment before looking out at the tops of the trees again.

Years ago she had told Waverly she wanted a sky funeral. She wanted to live and die amongst nature. It was a treasured ceremony in Tibet, and to Nicole it always felt like a rebirth. Her flesh would feed nature and help things grow, it would create life. Happiness. Love. When her remains were scattered far and wide, she’d be one with nature, finally back into the mud.

What she hadn’t realized at the time was that the ceremony had already started. Those days up until Waverly disappeared she was being prepared, and afterwards her body was so raw and open that the vultures had just kept picking and picking at her flesh until there was nothing left.

There was no point staying if Wynonna and Waverly were gone. Even if she hadn’t talked to Wynonna in years, she could still feel their connection. They would never not need the other, she had realized, and now that she was gone Nicole felt like a part of her was missing. Waverly had taken one piece, Wynonna the other and now there was nothing left.

Nicole was a shell of the woman she used to be, too tired and sad to be of any use to anyone. It was time for the new adventure.

She slowly lay back on the platform, straightening out her legs and arms falling naturally at her sides as she closed her eyes. 

Each breath she took was intentional, taking in something new that she’d never experience again. The sharp scent of the pine, the deep earthiness of the wood, the breeze that carried the very last of the ocean breeze. She breathed them each in intentionally, body already feeling heavy. 

The way that sleep began to take her over was like a slow wave, starting at her feet. Nicole tried to fight it off just a little longer. She listened to nature moving through the trees, in the far distance the shouts of her coworkers.

She wondered how long until they found her, if they ever did. Nicole didn’t care much either way. She had no use for this body when she was done with it. 

_Let the birds have it_ , she thought as sleep became harder and harder to fight. 

The heaviness seeping through her bones felt like all her sadness from the years pushing her down onto her funeral bier. Nicole never imagined herself growing old anyway, she reasoned. Not after Waverly was gone. 

She swallowed thickly, tasting the fresh air on her tongue for the last time as she sighed up towards the sky. Her lips curled in a smile as consciousness slowly left her, and her last thought as she faded into ashes was, _I’m coming for you, baby._

**Author's Note:**

> [I am on Twitter if you're so inclined.](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz)


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